Table of Contents
Preface to the Home Education Series
Preface
Chapter 1. Submission and Authority in the Home and in the School, Part I. . . . pg. 1
Chapter 2. Submission and Authority in the Home and in the School, Part II.--How Authority Behaves . . . pg. 13
Chapter 3. 'Masterly Inactivity' . . . pg. 25
Chapter 4. Some of the Rights of Children as Persons . . . pg. 36
Chapter 5. Psychology as it Relates to Current Thinking . . . pg. 44
Chapter 6. Examining Some Educational Theories . . . pg. 56
Chapter 7. An Adequate Educational Theory . . . pg. 68
Chapter 8. Certain Relationships that are Proper for Children . . . pg. 79
Chapter 9. A Review of A Great Educationalist . . . pg. 91
Chapter 10. Some Aspects of Physical Training That We Don't Usually Consider . . . pg. 101
Chapter 11. Some Aspects of Intellectual Training That We Don't Usually Consider . . . pg. 113
Chapter 12. Some Aspects of Moral Training That We Don't Usually Consider . . . pg. 126
Chapter 13. Some Aspects of Religious Training That We Don't Usually Consider . . . pg. 137
Chapter 14. A Master-Thought . . . pg. 148
Chapter 15. School Books and How They Bring About Education . . . pg. 164
Chapter 16. How to Use School Books . . . pg. 174
Chapter 17. Education as the Science of Relationships--We are Educated by Our Intimacies (Part I) . . . pg. 182
Chapter 18. We are Educated by Our Intimacies (Part II)--More Affinities . . . pg. 194
Chapter 19. We Are Educated by Our Intimacies (Part III)--Vocation . . . pg. 204
An Educational Manifesto . . . pg. 214 (a nice summary of CM's educational ideas)
Chapter 20. Suggestions Regarding Curriculum for Children Under Fourteen (Part I) . . . pg. 215
Chapter 21. Suggestions Regarding Curriculum for Children Under Twelve (Part II)--School Books . . . pg. 228
Chapter 22. Suggestions Regarding Curriculum for Children Under Twelve (Part III)-- The Love of Knowledge . . . pg. 240
Appendix I: Questions for the Use of Readers . . . pg 248
Appendix II. . . . . pg. 271 (student narrations; what a child should know by age twelve; sample exams; examples of oral lessons for teachers)
The future of education both in England and overseas is vague and depressing. We hear various urgent pleas--science should be the focus of education, we need to reform the way we teach foreign language or math, we should incorporate more crafts and nature study to train the eye and hand, students need to learn how to write English and must therefore be familiar with history and literature. And on the other hand, we're being pressured to make education more vocational and utilitarian. But there's no coherent principle, no real aim. There's no philosophy of education. A stream can't rise any higher than the lake it flows from. In the same way, no educational work can rise above the thought and purpose behind it. Maybe this is the reason for all the failures and disappointments of our educational system.
Those of us who have spent many years researching the gentle, elusive vision of education have come to understand that various approaches have a law behind them, but we haven't yet discovered what it is. We can make out a dim outline of it, but that's it. We know that it's all-encompassing. There's no part of a child's home life or school work that isn't affected by that law. It's illuminating. It shows the value (or worthlessness) of all the thousands of various educational systems and programs. It isn't just a light, it's also a measure. It sets the standard by which to measure all educational work, whether small or great. That law is impartial and gracious. It will embrace anything that's true, honest, and respected. It sets no limits or obstacles, except where too much would be harmful. And the educational path that the law reveals is continuous and always advancing forward. There is no magical transition stage, progress is steady from birth to old age, except that, whatever habits are learned in youth will determine what choices are made even in adulthood. When we finally see the law for what it is, we'll find that certain German thinkers--Kant, Herbart, Lotze, Froebel--were right when they said that it's necessary to believe in God, so the most important thing to learn is knowledge of God. That should be the priority of education. There's one more way that we'll be able to recognize this perfect law that gives educational freedom when we see it. It's been said that, 'The best thing about absolute truth is that it works under every condition we can think of.' And that will be true of this law. No matter what experimental test or logical investigation we give it, it will pass.
We still haven't seen an outline or summary of this law. So, until we have something definite, we'll have to fall back on Froebel or Herbart, or, if we adhere to a different school of thought, Locke or Spencer. But we aren't content. We feel dissatisfied. Is it a divine discontent? If we found a workable, effective philosophy of education, we'd welcome it as deliverance from our perplexity. Before we find this great deliverance, there will probably be lots of tentative attempts. They'll all have the characters of a philosophy, more or less. Specifically, they'll have a central idea, a basic concept with various details working in harmony with it. This workable, effective theory of education could be called a system of psychology. It would have to work well with the accepted ideas of the time. It wouldn't think of education as an isolated, shut-off compartment, but as a natural part of life, like birth, growing, marriage, or work. It would create a bond between the student and the great wide world, connected at many different points where interest was sparked. I know that some educational experts want to create that connection in many subjects, but their attempts are too random. They give a saying here, an idea there, but there's no common foundation to unify and support education as a complete unit.
Fools rush in where angels fear to tread. I don't want to seem presumptuous. I hope that there will be lots of ideas submitted towards a working philosophy of education, and that each one will bring us one step closer to discovering the best possible education. In that spirit, I offer my idea. The central foundational thought of my idea will sound rather obvious: the child is a whole, complete person with all the possibilities and capabilities already included in his personality. Some of the implications of this idea have been exploited by educational experts, and fragments of this idea are already pretty commonly accepted by common sense. For instance, take the aspect that education is the science of making relationships. That concept seems to solve the curriculum question. It shows that the main purpose of education is putting the child in living touch with as much of nature and thoughts as possible. If you add a couple of skills that help the child self-educate, then the student will go into the world after graduation with some ability to manage and control himself, a few hobbies to enrich his leisure time, and an interest in lots of things. I have two reasons for even attempting to offer my educational idea, even if my idea is tentative and will probably be replaced by an even better idea. For the last 30-40 years, I've worked unceasingly to come up with a philosophical educational theory that works practically. Also, each of the following educational principles is something that came about by inductive processes, and has been proved with long and varied experiments. I hesitate to share my findings because I know that, in the field of education, there are many workers more capable and more knowledgeable than I am. Even they aren't bold enough to offer answers because the footing is so precarious! They are like the 'angels who fear to tread.'
But, if only to encourage their effort, I offer an amended version of a synopsis I included in the other volumes of my 'Home Education Series.' My approach isn't methodic. It's more incidental--here a little, there a little. That seemed like the best way to make it practical for parents and teachers. I should add that the various essays in this book were originally written for the Parents National Educational Union [PNEU] to provide the society with a unified theory.
'As soon as the soul spots truth, the soul recognizes it as her first
and oldest friend.'
'The repercussions of truth are great. Therefore we must not neglect to
correctly judge what's true, and what's not.'
-- Benjamin Whichcote
Whichcote meant that the end result of truth is so great, that we must be careful to make sure that what we live by is, indeed, the truth.
1. Children are born persons - they are not blank slates or embryonic oysters who have the potential of becoming persons. They already are persons.
2. Although children are born with a sin nature, they are neither all bad, nor all good. Children from all walks of life and backgrounds may make choices for good or evil.
3. The concepts of authority and obedience are true for all people whether they accept it or not. Submission to authority is necessary for any society or group or family to run smoothly.
4. Authority is not a license to abuse children, or to play upon their emotions or other desires, and adults are not free to limit a child's education or use fear, love, power of suggestion, or their own influence over a child to make a child learn.
5. The only three means a teacher may use to educate children are the child's natural environment, the training of good habits and exposure to living ideas and concepts. This is what CM's motto "Education is an atmosphere, a discipline, a life" means.
6. "Education is an atmosphere" doesn't mean that we should create an artificial environment for children, but that we use the opportunities in the environment he already lives in to educate him. Children learn from real things in the real world.
7. "Education is a discipline" means that we train a child to have good habits and self-control, both in actions and in thought.
8. "Education is a life" means that education should apply to body, soul and spirit. The mind needs ideas of all kinds, so the child's curriculum should be varied and generous with many subjects included.
9. The child's mind is not a bucket to be filled with facts that bunch up into thought-groups, as Herbart said.
10. The child's mind is also not a bag for holding knowledge. It is a living thing and needs knowledge to grow. As the stomach was designed to digest food, the mind is designed to digest knowledge and needs no special training or exercises to make it ready to learn.
11. This is not just splitting hairs; Herbart's philosophy that the mind is like an empty stage waiting for bits of information to be inserted puts too much responsibility on the teacher to prepare detailed lessons. Students taught this way have lots of knowledge taught at them, without getting much out of it.
12. Instead, we believe that children's minds are capable of digesting real knowledge, so we provide a rich, generous curriculum that exposes children to many interesting, living ideas and concepts. From this principle, we can deduce that--
13. "Education is the science of relations," which means that children have minds capable of making their own connections with knowledge and experiences, so we make sure the child learns about nature, science and art, knows how to make things, reads many living books and that they are physically fit. Our job isn't to teach everything about everything, but to inspire interests that will help children make connections with the world around him.
14. Children have two guides to help them in their moral and intellectual growth--"the way of the will," and "the way of reason."
15. Children must learn the difference between "I want" and "I will." They must learn to distract their thoughts when tempted to do what they may want but know is not right, and think of something else, or do something else, interesting enough to occupy their mind. After a short diversion, their mind will be refreshed and able to will with renewed strength.
16. Children must learn not to lean too heavily on their own reasoning. Reasoning is good for logically demonstrating mathematical truth, but unreliable when judging ideas because our reasoning will justify all kinds of erroneous ideas if we really want to believe them.
17. Knowing that reason is not to be trusted as the final authority in forming opinions, children must learn that their greatest responsibility is choosing which ideas to accept or reject. Good habits of behavior and lots of knowledge will provide the discipline and experience to help them do this.
Principles 15, 16 and 17 should save children from the sort of careless thinking that causes people to exist at a lower level of life than they need to.
18. We teach children that all truths are God's truths, and that secular subjects are just as divine as religious ones. Children don't go back and forth between two worlds when they focus on God and then their school subjects; there is unity among both because both are of God and, whatever children study or do, God is always with them.
These books are called the 'Home Education Series' based on the title of the first volume, not because they deal wholly or in principle with 'home' as opposed to 'school' education.
The purpose of Volume 3 is to give some curriculum suggestions for students under the age of twelve. But a curriculum doesn't exist in isolation. It is related to so many other things that affect it, and that are influenced by it. The kind of curriculum I have in mind is the result of a specific educational theory. I believe that, if this theory were used, education would rest on more solid ground.
The primary principles of authority and submission are discussed first because they're so foundational. But, since they are so foundational, they should be present, but they shouldn't be noticable, in the same way that the foundation of a house is there providing structure but isn't visible. And submission to authority should be instilled by respecting the children's personalities. In order to give children the space to develop freely in the way that's right for them, parents and teachers need to adopt an attitude of 'masterly inactivity.'
After discussing the relationship between teachers and students, the next chapters discuss the relationship between education and current educational philosophy. Education should be flowing and constantly evolving and changing, not sealed and static. Of the current popular ideas about education, there are some that can help us as we strive to find the ideal kind of education. These include reverence for children's personalities, a sense of the brotherhood of man, and an awareness of how things evolve and progress.
As I wrote about training children in the areas of physical, mental, moral and religious aspects, I assumed that it wouldn't be necessary to explain what's already commonly accepted knowledge. Instead, I focused on aspects of education that are likely to be overlooked in each category. For instance, where I discuss the phrase, 'Education is a life,' I tried to show how necessary it is to feed the mind's intellectual life with ideas--therefore, school books should be used as a way to get ideas, not as compilations of dry facts. In the chapter 'Education is the science of relations,' I showed how that relates to the natural desire that normal children have for knowledge, and their right to be exposed to suitable knowledge of all kinds.
These factors help us understand how to choose a curriculum.
The kind of curriculum I have in mind should give children an education about Things and Books. Current educational theory already understands the importance of teaching about Things, and already has some good methods for doing that, so I didn't think I needed to go into that. The failures we have seem to stem from the failure of schools to form the habit of reading worthwhile books in children while they're under twelve years old. With free use of books, spelling and easy, flowing composition will take care of themselves--without any direct lessons in those things.
I think that the Appendices prove that using books this way works as well in practice as in theory, and it saves time and work for both teachers and students, especially the tedious, boring time spent by both of them to correct work.
Diluted, over-condensed lectures are replaced with carefully selected, well-planned, consecutive books--living books where facts are presented in the context of living ideas.
Children educated this way are distinguished by the fact that they love to learn. They do well on any exam they need to prepare for and, more importantly, they're ready to experience their full share of all the intellectual and practical interests that life has to offer.
AMBLESIDE, November 1904
Note - When appropriate, please substitute 'teachers' for 'parents.'
All of us who feel that education is our calling are very aware of the changes we see in the way children behave and how they act. In at least one thing we can take pride: relationships between children and their parents, in fact, between children and all of their grown-up friends, are much closer, open and friendly than they were in the past. There doesn't seem to be a gaping gulf anymore between child thought and adult thought. Those of us who are older remember trying to bridge that gulf with desperate attempts, but with no success. When we were little, the heads of the household were as authoritarian as the Czar of Russia. Everything we received, whether bread and milk or mother's love, came from their hands, and we received it with submission, if not gratitude. If our parents had nagging questions about what was best for us,
they kept them to themselves. From our position, everything was commanded, and all commands were final. There might have been a few rebellious children, maybe one in twenty, or even one in a hundred, but their rebellion had to have the courage of Satan in Milton's Paradise Lost. They dared everything and stood firm in bold opposition. These were blatant rebels who were doomed to come to bad ends. At least, that's what we were told, and we secretly believed it. For all other children, there was no other option but to submit. They were brought under the subjection of arbitrary rule without appeal.
That's the way children were brought up 40 or 50 years ago [around 1850]. Even many of today's young parents grew up under a benevolent dictatorship that, although it may have been happy, loving and wise, was, above all things, unquestioningly arbitrary. There were a few homes that Scottish people called 'ill guided.' Those were the kinds of homes where the children did whatever they wanted. As long as there are weak, lazy parents who don't care about their responsibility, these kinds of homes will continue to exist. But they were the exception. In most middle-class homes, the norm and tradition was a well-ordered, well-governed childhood. Every biography of the people who made their mark on history in the first half of the 1800's proves this. John Stuart Mill, John Ruskin, the Lawrences [probably brothers John and Henry, who served in India in the mid 1800's], Alfred Tennyson--almost everyone who made a name for himself grew up under absolute authority. In fact, it was just the other day that we heard of another case. This was a man who remembered 70 years ago, when he'd been twelve or thirteen years old, he was out shooting rabbits one winter day. He came home just as it was getting dark, and the evening was bitterly cold. His father
asked him which gate he had come through as he entered their property. The boy named the gate. 'Did you shut it?' 'I don't remember.' 'Go back and check.' And he went, even though he was already exhausted and the gate was over a mile away from the house! That kind of thing would hardly happen these days. The boy would protest, complain about how cold and tired he was, or suggest that a man go shut the gate if it was that important--and the story doesn't seem to indicate that it was. Yet this man was considered a kind father who was both loved and honored by his children. Arbitrary rule and unquestioning obedience were simply the habits of the household. And this style of household government still exists. The other day I heard about a Scottish father who confined his eighteen-year-old daughter to her room for a week because of a breach of discipline that wasn't even very serious. But where this kind of parent exists, it's because he's out of touch with current thought and culture. A few decades ago, parents were expected to have certain principles. The more cultivated and intelligent they were, the more they were expected to abide by such principles.
We have to admit that arbitrary rule wasn't a complete failure. It turned out men and women who were reliable, competent, trained, self-controlled, and well-mannered. In our own moments of doubt, we look at the children of our day and age and wonder whether they'll measure up to their fathers and grandfathers. But we don't need to worry. Educational thought evolves like the incoming tide. The waves come and go and you can't tell whether the tide is ebbing or flowing, but if you wait an hour, it will be obvious.
Aside from allowances for ebb and flow, with a few mistakes and failures here and there along the way, any truer educational thinking can only be distinguished by producing worthier character in the students it influences. The arbitrary nature of the old system was needed because of limitations--parents knew that they had to govern first and foremost. Abraham, the righteous father who 'ruled his house' was their example. It's easier to govern from a position of superiority than it is if you maintain an intimate relationship as equals. At the same time, inferiors can't be open and casual with authoritarians who are so obviously in a higher plane or order--at least, not if the inferiors are little boys. And this is one of the reasons why little children are so impenetrably secretive. Even when they're in good spirits, they carry on all kinds of chatter--but they keep it all to themselves, within the hidden depths of their own inner minds. All of us can remember some distressing anxiety we had as children that a simple word could have dispelled, but that became a dark secret, clouding years of our childhood. Mrs. Charles wrote in her autobiography about a troubling dream that haunted her childhood. In her dream, she had lost her mother and searched for her for hours in the rooms and endless halls of an unknown building without finding her. Her parents assumed her distress was caused by fear of the dark--she never told her loving mother about the dream. I doubt that any amount of loving care will permanently open the locked doors of a child's inner world. This mysterious burden of this confusing world is probably rooted early in the conscious soul, and each person has to make sense of his conception of the world for himself. But it's immensely helpful for a child simply to know that it's okay to ask questions. It's a relief to know that he can talk about things that
trouble him, and that there are answers to the things that confuse him. But it's a mistake to respond with gushing sympathy. That will either bore the child or make him feel patronized. It's enough just to know that you can ask and talk about things. For the parent, this provides a means to direct the child. For the child, it allows more free, natural development.
As one line of educational thought becomes more prominent, another one fades away. In this case, the thought that's fading away is an important principle. Early in the century [1800's], authority was everything when it came to governing a household. The submission of the children was assumed as a given, except for the few cases of true rebel spirits. Although we may not realize it, the evolution of English philosophical thinking has greatly impacted the way parents and children in every home relate to each other. Two hundred years ago, John Locke promoted the concept of infallible reason. Once that concept is accepted, individual reason becomes the ultimate authority and every person is free to do whatever seems right in his own eyes. Locke qualified himself by stipulating that reason is infallible only if the reason is fully trained and the mind has the information that pertains to each particular case in question. But that qualification was overlooked, and only the general concept remained. The old Puritan-style of faith and traditions of the elders related to bringing up children, as well as Locke's own religious sentiments and instincts to duty were too strong to allow the doctrine of infallible reason to take root in England. But France was ripe for such an idea, and John Locke was eagerly read there because his opinions corresponded to the popular thought of the time. His principles were put into practice in France and his conclusions were worked out to the bitter
end. Intelligent writers have suggested that Locke, in spite of being a religious, cultivated English gentleman, can't be excused from guilt for his role in the atrocities of the French Revolution.
In the twentieth century, we've lost some of the safeguards that kept seventeenth century society in check. We have our own philosopher who is perhaps even greater than Locke. He carries Locke's concepts to the inevitable conclusions that even Locke himself didn't broach. That philosopher is Herbert Spencer. He proclaims, as they did in France, the exaltation of Reason. Just like France, he sees that the principle of infallible reason is opposed to the concept of authority. And he traces this concept to its logical conclusion and final source. As long as people acknowledge God, they have to acknowledge the concept of authority, whether it's supreme authority, or delegated. But Spencer says that every man can find his own final authority in his own reason. He is passionate about his convictions. He realizes, as they did in France, that exalting Reason means dethroning God. By the process of exhaustive reasoning, he concludes that,
'We're on our own burial ground with no owner,
And we have no idea where we came from or who we belong to.'
Once God Almighty is dethroned, all human authority follows--kings, those given roles of authority in nations, even parents in authority over their own families. This teaching says that every act of authority is an infringement of the rights of man or child [could this be where the concept of non-coercive parenting comes from?] Children are to be brought up right from the start deciding for themselves, doing what seems right in their own
eyes. They're governed by their own reason, which supposedly learns to choose the right thing from its own mistakes by experiencing right and wrong choices. Life has natural consequences for those who violate the law of reason. Children should be allowed to learn those laws by experiencing the penalties of those consequences. 'You must' and 'you mustn't' are to be eliminated from a parent's vocabulary. Spencer's scheme for the emancipation of children is so complete and thorough that he even objects to studying languages in school because, as he says, the rules of grammar violate the concept of liberty!
Spencer's contributions to educational thought are so valuable that many parents read his work and embrace all of it without realizing that his educational ideas are a small part of his whole philosophy--and they might not agree with rest of his ideas. They accept his teaching when it says to bring up children without any authority so that they'll have room for self-development without realizing that Spencer's life work as a social Darwinist is to eradicate the concept of authority from the universe. He renounces the authority of parents as one link in the chain binding the universe to God. And he's correct that none of us has any right to exercise authority in anything, great or small, unless we acknowledge and accept our authority roles as positions appointed by the one supreme and ultimate Authority. When we peruse his book about education, [Essays on Education and Kindred Subjects] although it's small and easy to read, we need to remember that, by reading it, we're putting ourselves under the leading of a philosopher who doesn't overlook or leave out anything. He regards the most trivial
things from the far-sighted perspective of their final result. He doesn't want children obediently doing as they're told because he's afraid that they'll grow up and learn to obey another authority outside their own reason--that authority which we believe is ordained by God [or perhaps even God Himself].
Spencer's rationalistic thought isn't limited to those who read his books, or to those who read his ideas about education. 'Quick as thought' is a common expression, but I wonder how quick thought really is? It would be interesting to measure the rate of intensity, vitality and speed of an idea as it progresses through the world. How soon is it before an idea conceived at a man's reading desk is a household word? By the time the common man on the street thinks of it as his own possession, its original source is often long forgotten. We have no way of measuring the speed of an idea. But there's hardly a home, even in the lowest socio-economic neighborhood, where Spencer's educational concept hasn't been consciously adopted or rejected, even though the people considering the concept may never have heard of Spencer. Once an idea takes off, it's 'out there' in the world. It's similar to the Holy Spirit--we don't know where it comes from, or where it goes.
For the very reason that philosophical thought is so subtle and such a permeating influence, we need to be careful to scrutinize every principle that comes our way. Once we're able to be aware and safeguard ourselves, we'll be able to benefit from the bit of good in works that are largely full of errors. It's possible that the early years of this century [1900's] may see the rise of the greatest philosopher England has ever seen--a philosopher who won't be confined by the limitations
of rationalistic or materialistic thought. Men have become bored and tired of themselves. The concept that human reason is final has itself become an intolerable limitation. Nothing less than the Infinite will satisfy man's spirit. Once again, we recognize that we're made for God and we'll have no rest or peace until we find Him. Current philosophic thought both in England and around the world has left man's search for answers to the spiritual yearnings of his heart unsatisfied, so people are finding answers elsewhere.
One of the answers is reconstructing a whole new philosophy. This new philosophy is like a new temple for our spirits, like a house not built by human hands. Part of its foundation is restoring the concept of Authority to its traditional place, accepting it as a fact. It can't be accounted for any more than the law of gravity can. The concept of Authority is as binding and universal in the moral sense as gravity is in the physical sense. And fitting together with the concept of Authority like a ball fits into a socket is Submission. The concept of Submission is also universal and fundamental. Authority and Submission work together like two halves of a pair of scissors. All possibilities of law and order, government and progress hang on the joint concept of Authority and Submission. Benjamin Kidd's book Social Evolution helped draw attention to these two fundamental concepts. He asked questions such as, Why should a football team obey its captain? Why should an army obey its commanding officer? Why should a crowd on the street be controlled by two or three policemen? Why should anybody bother to respect property when so many want what so few have? To be more direct, why should there be rule and order in the world instead of anarchy? Benjamin Kidd turns to Reason to answer these questions--but she has no answer to give. The best she can offer is the appeal to
self-interest: individually and as a group, we tend to do whatever is shown to be in our best interest. But how does that account for the sailors who stood at attention when commanded and drowned as their ship HMS Royal George sank [in 1756]? Or the six hundred who rode 'into the valley of death' because it was,
'Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die'?
Deep reflection can find only one possible motivation for that kind of sacrificial obedience: the single simple motive of authority acting on submission. These men were told to do something, so they did it. It's as simple as that. And our hearts confirm that they did the right thing. We consider such things heroic, but we should note that these wonderful examples of human nature at its best can be boiled down to willingly obeying authority. Abuse of authority causes slavery and tyranny, but even they couldn't exist if they weren't founded on fundamental principles of human nature. All of us have it in us to serve or to lead, depending on the need of situation. To dream of complete freedom with every man his own sole governor is as pointless as dreaming of a world where apples don't always drop to the ground from the tree, but fly off in all different directions.
What is Authority? The fact that we're even asking the question shows how inevitable the work of rationalistic philosophers has been in the evolution of thinking. We owe them our deliverance from tyrants in both governments and families.
Rationalistic philosophers have provided a service by asserting and proving that every soul is born free with an inalienable right to liberty, and that offending the liberty of another human is a serious crime. They're right. Children are so submissive and weak that it's tempting for teachers and parents to become like dictators and say, 'Do this because I said so.' Therefore, it's teachers and parents, more than anyone else, who are indebted to rationalistic philosophers for reminding them about freedom, especially children's right to freedom within the family. This seems to be the way God educates the world. It isn't just one good custom that can 'corrupt a world,' but one infallible principle can corrupt, too. When a true principle comes to light in the mind of a philosopher, he sees its truth. It possesses him until that's all he sees and he forgets that it's not the whole truth. So he proclaims it as if it's the only truth there is until he becomes ridiculous. Then, in reaction, the totally opposite point is illuminated and glorified in the same way by the next school of thought. Finally, it's discerned that neither principle is the complete truth, but that men need the balance of both to live by.
It's this point and counterpoint of minds that has helped us to correct our concept of authority. It wasn't long ago, in fact, within our lifetimes, that we were on dangerous ground. We acted like authority was vested in certain people, and that arbitrary actions were appropriate for them, and that it was good for others to slavishly obey them. We got that notion of government from religion. We believed in the 'divine right' of kings and parents because we thought it was God's arbitrary will for it to be that way. But now we know
better. Now we know that authority rests in the office and not the person. The moment the person in the authoritative role acts like dictating is his personal attribute, he forfeits his authority. A person in authority is a person who has been authorized. And he's been authorized by someone that he's under authority to himself. A person under authority is holding and fulfilling a trust. Every time he asserts his own self, or commands on the whim of his own will, he stops being authorized and authoritative, and becomes arbitrary and domineering. Arbitrary domineering tyrants require punishments for minor infractions to stay in control. That's where the confusion about the relationship between authority and punishment comes from. A tyrant rules by terror. He punishes right and left to maintain his power. But a person who's vested with authority doesn't need punishment to back him up because a higher authority is behind him, and the corresponding principle of submission is in front of him.
Mr. Augustus Hare has what some would call a bad memory--he remembers every single insult and offense that's ever been done to him since his birth! That's why his book, The Story of My Life, isn't pleasant reading, even though it's full of interesting details. But that's just more evidence we need to consider about childhood. Hare has provided us with a very valuable lesson about childhood--although his instruction tells us more about what not to do! His adoptive mother's fine character and beautiful nature might never have been known to the world if he hadn't published her book, Memorials of a Quiet Life. She dearly loved the son she adopted, but she misinterpreted her role as mother. Yet the mistakes aren't the errors of an unworthy or even an ordinary woman. Mrs. Hare always acted on principle. When she erred, it was because the principle was faulty. She mixed up the two
principles of authority and absolute rule. She thought there was some intrinsic value in the arbitrary actions of a parent, and the better a child is at doing what he's told, the better a person he is. The more outrageous the command, the better the child for obeying it. Here's an example [from Augustus's memoirs] of what even a loving mother can do under such confusion: 'In the past, I had never been allowed to have anything but roast mutton and rice pudding for dinner. But now everything was different. The most delicious puddings were talked about, described in tempting, mouth-watering detail, until I became, not so much greedy, but curious in wonder about them. Finally, the grand moment arrived. The wonderful puddings were set on the table right in front of me. But then, just as I was about to take my first bite, they were snatched away and I was ordered to get up and take them to a poor family who lived in the village. I remember that, although I didn't care a bit about the deprivation of the delicacies, I did care about Lea the cook's outrage at the fate of her beautiful puddings. But, after all, it wasn't my fault.' And here's another example of an arbitrary ruling: 'Even the pleasures of being home on Sundays were spoiled in the summer because my mother gave in to Aunt Esther's suggestion that I should be locked in the church vestry [a room where clergy store robes and/or hold meetings] between services with a sandwich for dinner. The three hours I had to spend there every week were miserable. Although I didn't expect to see ghosts, the total isolation of Hurstmonceaux church, which was in the middle of nowhere, made me feel eerie during my imprisonment. Sometimes I would climb over the tomb of the two Lords Dacre. It rises like a screen up one side of the room. I'd be overtaken with a vague horror by the two statues lying down on top of it
silently and unearthly still, making even a rat scampering across the floor seem as loud as a whirlwind. . . . It was sort of a comfort to me during the church service to forcefully repeat all the curses in Psalms, the ones where David showed his most shocking hatred, and apply them to Aunt Esther and people like her. I supposed that, since all the Psalms were considered beautiful and used by the Church of England for edification, their sentiments must have been acceptable.'
And yet, when his mother trusted her own instinct instead of unsound principles, she was actually very wise: 'I find that, when giving an order to a child, it's always better not to check up on him to see if he obeys, but to take it for granted that he'll do it. If a parent seems to doubt that the child will obey, then there's room for the child to hesitate, 'Should I do it, yes or no?' If you don't even appear to question the possibility that he might not comply, he'll feel that a trust has been committed to him, and he'll keep it. It's best to never repeat a command, or to answer questions about why it should be done.'
Like many other rulers, Mrs. Hare seems to have erred, not because of laziness or harshness, but because she never defined for herself the nature of the authority she had to exercise. Absolute Rule is independent or self-derived power. Authority, on the other hand, is neither independent nor self-derived. In Matthew 8:9, the centurion says, 'I'm also a man placed under authority, and in charge of soldiers. I say to one, 'Go,' and he goes; to another I say, 'Come,' and he comes, and to my servant, 'Do this,' and he does it.'
This shows us the powers and limits of authority. The centurion is placed under authority, or, we might say, authorized. That's why he's able to say to one soldier, 'go,' and to another, 'come,' and to a third, 'do this,' with the calm assurance that it will all be done just the way he said. He holds his very position for that purpose--to make sure that specific things get done. He is himself a servant with specific tasks, although his are the tasks of authority. Even Jesus Himself assumed this position. He said, 'I didn't come to do my own will, but the will of Him who sent me.' That was His appointment, and the permanent rule of His life. That's why He was able to speak as someone who had authority. He Himself knew that he had been given that commission and was backed up by a higher authority.
True authority isn't unpredictable--demanding one minute, harsh the next, and then suddenly indulgent. That's how absolute rule acts. Since it's self-derived, it has to stay in power by its own force. That's why it has to be impatient, resentful, always on guard for the slightest transgression, and quickly offended. Absolute Rule has a stiff code of penalties, whether it's in a kingdom, a school, or a family. It has a long list of commands and rules to provide a stern barrier, protecting the terrible majesty of the tyrant. We all have a natural tendency to assume self-derived power, even the meekest ones of us. That's why we need to be on guard. This tendency is exhibited just as much in letting duties slide and granting special privileges as in inflicting punishments. It's flattering when a child approaches us in that charming, pleading way that any monkey can mimic, and begs, 'Pleeease let me stay home with you this morning, just this once!' If we give in, the next stage becomes, 'I don't want to go!' and finally, 'I
won't!' At that point, the parent or teacher who's been relying on the power of his own autocracy will learn that children can be dictators, too--they can be alarmingly stubborn and belligerent.
Authority isn't harsh or indulgent. She is gentle, and easy to reason with about nonessential matters--because she's uncompromising when it comes to matters of real importance. For those matters, there's always an established principle. For example, parents and teachers have no right to trifle with issues that affect the health or duty of their children. They don't have authority to allow excessive indulgences--like too much candy--or habits that compromise health. They also can't allow children to shirk any clear-cut duty regarding obedience, courtesy, respect or work. Authority is always alert. She always knows what's going on and where the tendencies towards weakness are. She fulfills the command that 'he who rules should do so with conscientiousness.' [Romans 12:8] But she's also strong enough to fulfill the other part of that command: 'Let the person who shows mercy do so cheerfully.' Leniency at the right time, giving in when it's needed, is the secret of a strong government. Sometimes it's children, and not their parents, who are right about an issue. They register a complaint or resist a mandate, and now it's the children against the parent or teacher. It's best for the parent or teacher to be in the habit of quickly reviewing the situation without being obvious. Then, if the children are right, it will be possible for the adult to gather his wits in time to yield the point graciously, and send the children away warmed with love and loyalty.
Nobody understood this better than Queen Elizabeth I. She managed
to compartmentalize her personality in such a way that she could be a model ruler, and, at the same time, a woman who had all the distinguishing delicacies and vulnerabilities of her femininity. It was said that she knew when and how to give in. Her skill at dealing with dangerous crises was highly praised by historians. But it's possible that it wasn't so much skill as it was tact that comes from having the qualities that people in authority should have. Those qualities include the humble reserve of one who's been given an appointed duty, the willingness to think through an issue and listen to advice and consider suggestions, the realization that she wasn't the be-all and end-all because she was a queen, but that she existed to serve her people, and the quick, compassionate, open-minded sympathy that made her able to see other sides of an issue besides her own, or, often, in preference to her own. These qualities are just as appropriate for the 'ruler' of a family or classroom as they are for the ruler of a kingdom. If a parent has these qualities, he'll be able to manage and control a lively young brood full of energy and high spirits as well as Elizabeth was able to manage her kingdom at a time when men's minds were grappling with new ways of thinking and life was intoxicating with the delights of new possibilities.
It's not easy to distinguish the line between mechanical and reasonable obedience. I heard a very successful mother say, 'I teach my children obedience by the time they're a year old,' and that does seem to me the age when children should begin to have the habit of obeying lawful authority that will make their lives easier and more comfortable. Mr. Huxley told a story of a man who had been a private but had left the army. He had bought his Sunday dinner from the deli and was carrying it home. A sergeant
recognized by the way he walked that he was a retired soldier and decided to play a practical joke on him. He called out, 'Atten-TION!' and the man snapped to attention while his meat and potatoes rolled into the gutter. This kind of response is a matter of nerves and muscles, an automatic habit that has nothing to do with deliberate moral consciousness. It's fashionable these days to write off anything except reasonable obedience, as if we were creatures made of nothing but mind and spirit, or as if our bodies responded to a bidding of the spirit as immediately as a ship responds to the turn of the helm. But, unfortunately, we're weak. Our bodies only respond to spiritual biddings if we've trained them to respond in automatic mechanical obedience. We all know children who are wholeheartedly willing to do the right thing mentally, but their bodily inertia is strong enough to resist torrents of good intentions and noble resolutions. If we want our children to be able to keep their bodies under control when they grow up, we need to do it for them now, while they're still young.
The daily routine of obedience in small things helps children to fulfill a natural function--submission's response to authority. Some might say that a child who has acquired the habit of involuntary, mechanical response has lost that much power as a free moral agent. But the actions that are usually trained in this way are physical efforts: 'Hurry back,' 'Sit up straight,' 'Tie your shoes quickly.' They're part of the same training that it takes to master the body so that it's a machine that's able to do many different things.
To be able to manipulate a machine like a computer keyboard or a bicycle, the most important element is practice. It takes being able to do it automatically, without having to think about it. Giving a child this kind of power over his own human machine, in the beginning because someone else is making him, but later because he's making him do it himself, helps to make a man of him.
We hear all the time that people don't fail in life because they lack good intentions. Usually it's that their physical bodies have never acquired the habit of prompt, involuntary obedience. The man who has the power to make himself do what his mind wills can achieve anything. It's up to parents to give their children this kind of power by making it a matter of habit. Someone may ask, isn't it better and superior to train children to always respond to spiritual direction as it speaks through their conscience? The answer is that we can do both. Most conscientious parents are going to involve their child's conscience in the course of their upbringing. And life itself will provide enough opportunities in the lives of both children and grown ups when decisions will need to made based on spiritual reasons, times when it will be up to us to consciously and voluntarily choose good and refuse evil because we know that's God's will for us.
One famous preacher was right when he said that the effort of decision is the greatest effort in life. We know it's true from our own experience: should we take this action or that? Should we buy cut pile or loop pile carpet? Should we send our son to this school, or that one? We all know how difficult such decisions can be, and the stress
and wear on the nerves caused by a heavy decision is apparent by the nervous headache we sometimes get afterwards. That's why it's a blessing that we're created so that many of our decisions are already made for us. Ninety nine out of a hundred things we do are done, for better or worse, by habit. Our brain tissues have a wonderful ability to record repeated actions and, with the right stimulus, reproduce them. That helps to ease the burden of life, making it easier for us to be light and happy like children, which is what God intended. Yet, even with this provision for building habits, it's an appalling shock to find that there are lots of thoughtful parents whose children spend their lives in day-long struggles over decisions that their parents should have settled for them. Megan is nervous, high-strung, her mind can't keep still, she's obsessively organized, looks pale, and is developing compulsive mannerisms. She's taken to the doctor. He doesn't know much about her home life and decides that she's exhibiting symptoms of over-pressure. He suggests that Megan not do school lessons for six months, be taken to a different location for a change of air, and be put on a bland diet. Somehow none of that helps. She doesn't improve, and the parents fail to see that it wasn't the routine of her school lessons causing the exhaustion, but the fact that poor Megan is having to go through the labor of decision-making twenty times a day. Added to that is the stress of daily battles of will to get her own way. Every trivial matter in the course of a day becomes an issue of debate, nothing is ever just a matter of course. The child always wants to do it some other way, or to do something else altogether, and usually does. No wonder she's so worn out!
On the other hand, children are, if nothing else, reasonable beings. To some acute, intelligent children, an arbitrary command that appears unreasonable is severely unnerving. It's not a good idea to indulge children with detailed explanations every time they want to know why a command is given, but wise parents will find a balance. They're careful to develop habits in their children that will make the routine of day to day life run smoothly. In the unusual event that requires a new regulation, they might casually comment on the reason for doing so, but if that's not convenient or possible, they don't mind resorting to the most important reason for obedience: 'because it's the right thing to do.' To put it plainly, authority tries its best not to give reason for offense.
Another illustration of the appropriate use of authority is the way a well-run government works. The role of prevention is fully recognized. The police, army and navy are mostly preventive forces. And the family authority is wise to follow their example and have its own Advance Notification System. It's good to give some warning before potential scenes of conflict: 'We'll have just enough time to finish this chapter before the clock strikes seven,' or, 'We'll be able to play one more time around before bedtime.' Wise mothers know well how important it is to give children time to collect themselves for a decisive moment. This time should be spent finishing something enjoyable. Every moment of indecisiveness at this critical time helps to set up the inertia that works against obedience, and that inertia is difficult to overcome because the child's own willpower is in a state of suspended animation. A little forethought and planning helps to arrange things so that games and projects come to an end at the right moment and bedtime doesn't
arrive right in the middle of a chapter, or at the most exciting part of a game. If that happens, Authority, from its perspective of seeing past and future, might graciously afford to give a five minutes grace period, but wouldn't allow that to extend to dawdling indefinitely while saying good-night.
We hardly need to add that authority is just and faithful when it comes to keeping promises. It's also considerate, which is why a good mother makes the best Ruler in a home--she's in touch with her children, knows their unspoken ambitions and understands their half-formed dreams. If she can't give in, she tries to divert and redirect. She never rules by crushing with a sledge-hammer--a tool of power that children somehow never sympathize with.
Diversion, or changing children's thoughts, is such an important tool when it comes to forming habits. Let's not 'despise the day of small things' or 'grow weary in doing good.' If we train our children from the youngest ages to prompt mechanical obedience, we'll reap our reward. But if we haven't done that, we'll just have to work towards it little by little with ever-vigilant efforts. We'll have to use authority that never procrastinates and never gets aggressive. Our children will gain 'the joy of self-control,' and the delight of obedience that's like proud chivalry and considers a command an opportunity to serve. It's a happy irony that 'difficult' children who resist direct commands the most stubbornly are often the quickest to respond to the novelty of a new idea. The skill of knowing how to present an inspiring idea is a delicate art that I've discussed elsewhere.
This is no one-sided arrangement, with all the authority on the parent's side, and the child having no part but submission.
After all, there never was a child who didn't wield some kind of authority, even if only over dolls or plastic soldiers. And we adults who are in the role of authority in our families and classrooms are submissive to anyone who will bother to tell us we need to do this or that. We don't need to worry that our authority will stifle the independence of children. It won't.
Authority is more than a gift, it's a grace.
'In the same way that every shade of the rainbow is light,
So every one of the graces is a different shade of love.'
Authority is just one part of the love that parents give to their children. Parents know that it's love because, to them, it means continual self-denial, self-repression and self-sacrifice. Children recognize it as love because, to them, it means quiet peace and joy in their hearts. Perhaps the best help for those in authority over their families is to ask themselves every day the same question that was asked presumptuously of Jesus: 'Who gave you this authority?'
It would be interesting if an expert in literature could trace how the word 'responsibility' symbolized ethical thought throughout the last few decades. In the 1850's and 60's, people were very responsible, even children. But their responsibility was for their own character, action and manners. We don't seem to be as responsible these days. We tend to accept that we're the way we are, and to make allowances for our own little peculiarities and idiosyncrasies. We sometimes lack the gift of humor that should give us the ability,
'To see ourselves the way others see us.'
We may take ourselves lightly, but we tend to be harder on ourselves when it comes to our obligations to others. We still have a weight of responsibility that feels as 'heavy as frost,' but we've shifted it from one shoulder to the other. Those of us who are more serious by nature can become downright burdened with our sense of obligation about what we owe to people near and far away. Men can be less troubled by the weight than women because most of them
have jobs where each day has its own work that needs to be done, and that keeps them busy. But women have more time to think about their relationships and the duties related to them. It's an interesting commentary on our times that the modern scholars who translated Matt 6:25 phrased it as, 'Don't be anxious for your life,' instead of the old translation. ['take no thought for your life']. Women may feel the daily constant wear of responsibility for others more unceasingly than men, but if a man hears about some urgent crisis, such as the conditions in the slums of East London, or Home Rule, or the recent massacres in Armenia, he'll feel it more intensely and passionately. This sharpened sensitivity isn't a weakness of our modern era, it's just a sign of the times.
Those of us who feel like life itself is an education because we never stop learning are encouraged to see this general sense of responsibility for others. It seems to show that we really are receiving some direction from God, and that we're making progress.
It's good if we feel empathy for people who are distressed, suffering, sick, mentally ill, handicapped, uneducated, or spiritually lost. If only we all felt the burden of the lost more! Yet thinking people feel one particular responsibility with even more acute awareness--and that's the heavy responsibility for their own offspring. Parental responsibility is the big issue in educational discussions these days. People believe that it's possible to bring up their children to be even better people than they are themselves, and, knowing this, they feel that they have an obligation and a duty to do that. In fact, the success of the PNEU is the result of parents who feel a keen sense of their responsibility to their children.
Every step of progress, whether it's mechanical or spiritual, takes a time of adjustment before it can be fully used. In the arena of science, there's always a long period of time between
the moment when a new discovery is made, such as the X-Ray and the time when the world can enjoy its practical application with all of its benefits and without it displacing other things that are just as necessary. For instance, we should be suspicious of any claim that x-ray technology can do everything that a stethoscope, thermometer and any other equipment can do. It's the same way in the moral sphere. The weight of responsibility we feel comes from our newly aroused feelings of high-minded charity. It makes us able to feel more love for more people. We have more of the Holy Spirit's agape love in us, even if we don't realize that our greater love comes from God. But knowing that we need to do much more, and knowing what to do and how to do it, are two different things. Rather than adding to our fullness and joy in life, it frustrates us. We become worried, anxious and restless. [This sounds typical of new homeschoolers who feel compelled to homeschool, but don't know how to do it!] There's a transition time between the learning curve where the how's and why's are acquired and fine-tuned, and the time when the process is actually working and we're happier and more useful.
I want to address this gap of time during the transition by presenting the concept of 'masterly inactivity' to parents and teachers. There are so many things that we should do for our children, and so much that's possible to provide for them, that we can start to think that everything rests with us. We begin to feel like we can't let up even for a minute in our conscious thinking about our efforts in training up our children's young minds and hearts. As a result, our efforts become over-controlling and micro-managed. We're with our children every minute of the day, always on their backs. Even when we can't get them to comply, we try to dominate them too much. We don't realize that wise
deliberate letting alone is the best part of education. The defect that makes us take too much on ourselves isn't serious. We just need to make a few adjustments, and that's what I'm going to discuss.
[Apparently, 'masterly inactivity' was a term used in CM's time to describe a 'wait and see' attitude by legislators in response to political incidents, or, as one British letter puts it, 'trusting to the helping influences of time.']
It's a blessing that our minds are made so that, once we receive an idea, it will work itself out in our mind and actions without too much after-effort from us. If we allow the concept of 'masterly inactivity' as an aspect of education, we'll find ourselves relating with children from this standpoint without even consciously thinking about it. But we need to have an accurate idea of what we mean when we say 'masterly inactivity.' The phrase used by Carlyle has nothing to do with the attitude of, 'who cares?' or 'why bother?' and it has even less to do with the sheer neglect that just lets things happen because it's too much trouble to take any action to influence the outcome. 'Masterly inactivity' indicates an exquisitely capable moral attitude, and it's worth our time to analyze it. The concept is perhaps most accurately phrased in Wordsworth's words: 'wise passiveness.' It suggests the ability and authority to take action, a concern for the outcome, with the insight and restraint that keeps a person from interfering. But, for our purposes, the phrase conveys one more idea. It isn't just that we're restraining ourselves from direct involvement, there's also a sense of our authority that our children need to be aware of whether we're giving them a command or not. The sense of authority is the foundation of the parental relationship. If our children don't respect our authority, then I doubt that either our direct involvement or our inactivity will do much good. This element of strength
is the backbone on which our position as parents rests. 'We couldn't even if we wanted to,' and the children know it. They're free under authority, which is liberty. To be free without any authority is license.
The next element of masterly inactivity is a sense of agreeability--candid, friendly, natural, good-natured ease. This is very different from lack of concern or a general giving in to children's every whim. One comes from a foundation of strength; the other from weakness. Children are good at spotting the difference! 'Please, Mom, can't we pick blackberries this afternoon instead of doing school?' A masterly 'yes,' and a defeated 'yes' are two different things. The first makes the break doubly enjoyable, but the second creates a restless desire to see what else can be gotten away with.
The next element is confidence. Parents should have more faith in themselves. It doesn't take a whirlwind of restless activity to get things accomplished. The mere presence of a proper parental relationship, with the rightful authority that goes along with it, is to the children what sunshine and water are to seeds in fertile soil. But a parent who's picky, anxious, constantly explaining, demanding, making excuses, over-restraining, too interfering, or who is simply with the children too much, destroys the dignity and simplicity of the parent/child relationship. Like all of the best and most delicate things in life, that relationship suffers if it has to be asserted or defended.
Fathers are often more comfortable than mothers assuming that casual,
easy attitude with their children that comes
with their relationship. But that's just because fathers tend to be preoccupied with so many outside things, while the mother is often wrapped up in her children. It shames all of us to see a careless, selfish mother whose children are her personal slaves and are happy rushing around to serve her whims. The point isn't that mothers shouldn't be careless and selfish, but that they should provide their children with the space and freedom that come from letting them alone. Young people shouldn't be oppressed with the concerns and worries of their parents. A ten-year-old who wants to know if she's performing as well as average ten-year-olds, or who discusses his bad habits with you and asks for suggestions to get rid of them is a cause for concern. We instinctively feel that such a child is worried about things that should be the parent's concern. The burden of a child's training is the parent's responsibility, but the parent should bear it with an easy grace and erect posture, like a Spanish peasant carrying a water-jug.
The next element is that parents should have confidence, not only in themselves, but in their children. This should be a goal for them to try to live up to. If the parent trusts in the relationship between them and the child, the child will believe in it, too, and rise to the occasion to fulfill his part. This will happen if the children aren't worried [flustered and over-burdened with too many demands].
Parents and teachers must, of course, be omniscient. Their children expect them to be. A mother or father who can be fooled is a person who's easy to be taken in, even in the mind of the best child. Children are always playing a game of half chance, half
skill, to see how far they can go, how much control they can get of their own lives, and how much they have to leave in the hands of the stronger authority. A mother who isn't wise to her children is at their mercy, and shouldn't expect them to go easy on her. But her omniscience must be the kind that sees without watching, knows without telling, is always on the alert without being obvious about it. Her attitude must be open-eyed, but calm like a sphinx. The children should know that they've been left alone, whether it's to do their assigned duty, or to amuse themselves. The constraining power of authority must be ever-present, but passive so that the child doesn't feel like he's confined against his will. The pattern and role model is man's free will. For ages and ages, having a free will has been good exercise for faithful souls who would have preferred the easy way out by being coerced into obedience and righteousness. A child who behaves because he isn't given any other choice will lose more in his ability to have initiative than he'll ever gain with the appearance of good behavior. Every time that a child feels like he's behaving because he made a free choice of his own accord, his initiative is strengthened. Parents must not control children with bearing reins [or, with a short leash]. When it occurs to a child to reflect on his own actions and behavior, he should have enough of a sense of freedom that his good behavior feels like something that was his own choice and preference.
This is the kind of freedom that a child has when his parents trust him as far as his comings and goings and his childhood activities, all the time within the bounds of parental authority. Such a child is getting the training that a person needs as a being whose life is conditioned by 'fate' and 'freewill.' His liberty has a sense of 'must' behind it. That relieves him of the kind of anxiety that
comes from the constant stress of having to make decisions. He's free to do what he should, but in his deepest heart, he knows very well that he's not free to do what he shouldn't. But the child who grows up with no strong sense of authority behind what he does, who hears over and over again to 'be good,' is aware that he can choose good or evil, he can decide to obey or not, he can tell the truth or he can lie. Even when he chooses to do the right thing, the decision-making process itself causes him some stress. His parents have removed the support of their authority, which is supposed to sustain him in the difficult choice to do right, so he's left all alone in the most difficult effort of all--the effort of decision. Is it too subtle a distinction, the difference between freedom to choose the right thing by one's own choice, but not being free to choose to do wrong? Is that difference too elusive to grasp? Maybe, but it's the very distinction that we ourselves are aware of in our own lives when we consciously keep ourselves under God's Kingship. We're free to walk in the ways of righteous living, and we have the delightful sense of liberty to choose--yet we know that the way of the transgressor is hard. We're aware of a restraining hand in the here and now, and we know that there's sure, certain punishment in the future. This is precisely the subtle distinction that we need to aim for with our own child. He needs to be treated with full confidence, and he must feel like choosing the right thing is his own free choice that his parents trust him to make. But he must also be aware of a deterring force in the background that's always alert and ready to hinder him when he wants to makes the wrong choice.
We've listed authority, cheerfulness, self-confidence,
confidence in our children, as some of the elements of masterly inactivity. But there are other components that have to be there, too. A healthy, sound mind and body is necessary. If a sound body is impossible, then get the mind sound. A nervous, anxious, worried mother can't have an easy, happy relationship with her child. She might be the best mother in the world in all other respects, but all her children will pick up from her when she's like that is a touch of her nerves, which is the most contagious of bad habits. She'll perceive her children as grouchy, rebellious, and unmanageable, but she won't realize that it's her own fault--not the fault of her actions, but the fault of her mood.
There's a reason why the old painters, no matter how different their ideas about other matters might have been, all had the same idea about the proper role model for a Mother. The Madonna, no matter whose painting you look at, is always serene. This is a great truth. If seeing this lesson with the eyes would have a calming influence on the heart, then it would be worthwhile to hang our walls with Madonnas from all the early Master painters! Does this seem unattainable for mothers in these anxious, stressful days? It may seem hard, but it's not impossible. If mothers would learn to do for themselves what they do for their children when they're over-stimulated, households would all be happier. Let the mother go out to play! She should have the courage to let everything go when life becomes too stressful, and just take a day, or even a half day, alone, to go out into the fields, or enjoy a favorite book, or go to the art gallery and gaze long and intensely at just two or three pictures, or relax in bed, without the children. Life would go on more smoothly
for both parents and children. The mother would be more able to have the attitude of 'wise passiveness,' and she wouldn't frustrate her children with her continual interference, even if her involvement is only with her hand or eye. Instead, she'd just let them be.
Another necessary element is leisure. Sometimes we're in a hurry because of events. But, we have to admit, sometimes we're hurried simply because we enjoy the excitement of a bit of a rush. The children like it, too, at first--Dad's birthday is coming and Nicole must recite a poem for him, but the little performance was only thought of a week in advance, so Nicole is summoned at all sorts of random moments to have some lines of the poem crammed into her. At first, she's pleased to have so much attention, and enjoys the task of memorizing. But gradually, it starts to become a nuisance. She starts to resist and gets sulky about it. She's reprimanded for not loving her father, tearfully learns her verses, and although she finally delivers the performance charmingly enough, Nicole has suffered physically and morally. Yet if the project had been thought of a month earlier, the whole process could have been healthy and fun. It's even worse for children after their mother or teacher has had a busy day. Company is coming for dinner, or the family's summer clothes need to be taken care of, or drawers and cabinets need to be cleaned out, or there's a test coming. It's one of those busy, fussy days that women tend to love. We try to do more than we can really handle ourselves, our nerves are on end, we're tired, and, with all the stress, everyone in the school or house feels uncomfortable because of the pressure. The children seem to take advantage of this stress to act up. The truth is, their mother's mood has affected them and made them whiny and annoying. The result of the mother's bottled nervous stress will probably be tantrums in the children's room.
Idle time to relax, and a sense of calm leisure in the adults around them is as necessary to children as the strong, kind parental attitude I'm talking about.
There are more ingredients in the recipe of 'masterly inactivity,' but I only have space to list one more. The highest form of confidence is what we know as faith. There can't be full rest and peace of mind and behavior without it. We need to recognize and remember that God doesn't leave the training totally up to their parents. He Himself works in ways that it's not our place to hinder. He helps the training of every child. When we understand this, then we'll learn passiveness, humility and wisdom. We'll feel better about giving children space to develop their own character in their own individual way, and we'll know the best way to intervene effectively to prevent the bad tendencies that their particular character is prone to.
Next, we'll consider some of the different phases of children's lives that need some 'masterly inactivity' from their parents and teachers.
We've just finished discussing how right and wise it is to include 'wise passiveness' or 'masterly inactivity' in our plan of bringing up our children. Now we need to look at the different areas of a child's life where we should use 'masterly inactivity.' The first area is in the child's play. In these days when there's so much emphasis on education, we risk crowding out time to play, or, just as bad, managing and arranging it until children have no more choice in the way they play than they do in their work. We have nothing against the educational value of games. We know that there's a lot to be learned from sports. The qualities we think of when we think of an English gentleman are mostly learned from such games. There's a move to bring these games with their benefits to girls, so that they too can grow up with a concept of abiding by rules, moral stamina, and resourcefulness that usually result from playing organized sports.
Although there are benefits to organized
sports, they are not the same as playing in the sense we're talking about. Children need time to make up episodes, carry on pretend adventures, live heroic lives, lay sieges and defend forts, even if the fort is only an old armchair. Adults must not interfere or tell the children what to play. They need to accept the fact that this is something they don't understand, and, even more, their very presence carries the cold breath of reality that makes the pretend illusion dissipate and fade away. Think what it must be like for a commanding general leading his soldiers when some intruder into his play-world tells him to tie his shoes! There's an idea going around that children need to be taught how to play--and that we need to teach them to pretend how to be little fishies and lambs and butterflies [Froebel's novel idea called 'kindergarten!'] Children undoubtedly enjoy these games that are made up for them, but they carry a risk. A child who gets used to crutches may never learn to walk on his own. Children who spend a lot of time playing with grown-ups won't learn to create their own games and make believe, so they miss the education that comes from being allowed to go their own way and live
'As if his whole job
Was continual imitation.'
Even in children's work, adults tend to interfere too much. We all know how much personal initiative is valued and how much children love doing anything that they're allowed to do their own way. They love doing anything that gives room for building skills, using their imagination, or developing their thinking ability. Our current philosophies of education don't leave much room for children to have any personal initiative. There's so much busy work to be finished, so many things that need to be learned about (but not really learned), that it's only
rarely that a child gets an opportunity to create anything himself. We should use opportunities as they come up. At the School Field at Hackney [1884-1905], Edmund Beale Sargent tried an interesting and eye-opening experiment. He got eighty children together much like any other elementary school except that he personally paid for his school instead of it being funded by educational taxes or private tuition. The results were wonderful. The students learned to draw very well. That's probably because, as soon as they could outline the flower and leaves of a specific plant, they were encouraged to create designs using those shapes. After just a short period of art training, these children were able to create truly beautiful floral designs that might surprise other parents whose children have had years of art training but still can't draw. These students at School Field produced much of their own school magazine, too. They wrote stories, poems and essays--not because it was assigned as school work, but because they wanted to. Their minds had been stimulated to think so that they felt like they had something to say about topics like a doll's ball, or Peter, the school cat. They experienced the feeling of thinking and creating for themselves. Our failure in education is largely due to the fact that we carry our children through their school work instead of letting them expend their own effort and concentration.
There's another way that we don't leave children alone enough to do their work, and this is even more in our control. We prod them constantly and don't let
them stand or fall as a result of their own efforts. One of the characteristics (and disastrous features) of modern society is that we've become lazy and dependent on being prodded. We've encouraged a whole system of various prods to get us to do anything. We have to be prodded to do our social duties. If we help support a charitable institution, we expect to be reminded when it's time to pay. If we go to an event, do we go on our own because we've decided we want to, or do we go because someone else asked us to and reminded us of the day and time a half dozen times? Maybe the odd division of labor is a result of our hurried lives--our society seems to be divided into those who prod, and those who are prodded [prodders and proddees?] I don't mean that some people do nothing but pressure everyone else about everything, and some people just suffer under the pressure. What's more accurate is that all of us prod in some situations, and all of us are prodded in others. An occasional prick to remind us can be healthy and stimulating, but the sluggishness of human nature makes us more willing to lean against a wall that has spikes than to stand unsupported in our strength! When we train children, we need to be careful that they don't get into the habit of needing to be reminded to do every one of their duties, and prodded to make any kind of effort. Our entire educational structure is mostly a system of prods. A system of prods is likely to obscure a child's sense of 'must' and 'ought' if he gets used to mentally and morally resisting prods.
It would be better for children to suffer the consequences of not doing their work from time to time, rather than to always do their work because they were so urged and prodded from all sides that they were never given a choice in the matter. The more
we're prodded, the lazier we get and the less we're able to expend the effort of our will, which is supposed to get us started on our tasks and help us follow through and complete them. Children are, for the most part, good enough to want to do what they should. If we expect a chore to be done at a certain time without urging, pleading, rewarding or punishing, nine times out of ten, it will be done. The mistake that many of us make is in relying on our own wisdom and our own efforts instead of trusting the dutiful impulse within our children that will carry them through the work that's expected of them.
When it comes to choosing friends and people to hang out with, we should train children so that we'll feel we can trust them with a generous confidence. If we give them that kind of confidence, we'll find that they will be worthy of it. If Franklin has started spending time with Haskell Jones and Haskell isn't a very nice boy, Franklin will figure that out as quickly as his mother if he's left alone. He'll probably come and ask for advice and suggestions for getting out of a friendship that he doesn't feel comfortable with. But if the parents ban Haskell and forbid Franklin from doing things with him, or put different boundaries on what they can do together, then Franklin, if he's a kind-hearted child, will feel bound in honor to side with his friend. As a result, a friendship that might have been easily discarded becomes cemented. Emily won't understand why she, as the daughter of an upper middle class family, shouldn't make friends with Melissa, who sits next to her at school and is from a lower-class neighborhood. But these are minor issues and should be left to chance. A mother who questions her children's choice of friends on the basis of outward things like social class or appearance
is clouding the consideration of the more important issue of character, which is the most common cause of ruined lives. In this matter, just like other matters, the parent's inactivity must be masterly. In other words, the child should be able to tell whether his parents would approve or disapprove, and he should be able to base that on general principles of character and conduct, even though his parents never say anything or even give disapproving looks about this week's new buddy.
Spending pocket money is one more opportunity to give children initiative and give parents practice in restraining themselves. The father who distributes the weekly pocket money has probably never given his children any principles about handling money--namely, that no matter how small an income is, it can be divided into a portion to give away, a portion to keep, and some to save so that after a few weeks or months, there's enough to buy something that's really worth having. As far as wasting money on treats, that should be a rare indulgence, and only if we're going to be sharing it. As far as thinking carefully before making a purchase, the lesson of Rosamund and the Purple Jar will be useful. If a father hasn't taught his children these things, then he shouldn't be surprised when his children think of money merely as a way to indulge themselves. Lessons like these shouldn't have any bearing on the week's pocket money. That should be theirs to spend however they want, after they've had some instruction about handling money. Little by little, weekly allowance should include the cost of belts and scarves until, finally, when a girl is
in her late teens, she can be trusted with her own allowance for clothing and personal expenses. If a parent can't trust their older child with money after training them, then they haven't properly prepared their child to survive in a world where wise, fair and generous handling of money is a mark of character.
We only have room to mention one more area where we should practice 'masterly inactivity.' There are compelling issues being discussed these days, controversial opinions burning in people's minds--issues of religion, politics, science, literature, art, every kind of social project, and we all tend to have strong opinions. A person who hasn't kept abreast of the latest evolution of thought in the world about these matters should be ashamed of himself. It's our responsibility to form opinions carefully, and to hold them loyally unless facts persuade us to change our mind. But we have no right to pass these opinions on to our children. It's so easy to make strong partisan followers of our children, at least children who appear to be loyal. But with every action comes an equal and opposite reaction, and the swinging of the pendulum will probably carry our children to the totally opposite opinion of ours. The mother of the Newmans [Cardinal John Henry Newman and atheist Charles Robert Newman] was a devoted evangelical. When they were children, she passed her ready-made opinions over to her sons. Maybe she thought that the ideas they received from her on the matter was their own reasoned opinion. But when they were out from under her domineering influence, one allied himself with the Catholic Church in Rome,
and another refused to have any restriction on his freedom to think and do what he wanted, so he chose to create his own creed, which was a rejection of God altogether. Perhaps this religious mother would have saved herself some grief if she had given her children the living principles of Christianity, which aren't matters of opinion. Then she could have let them accept her particular denomination as children without requiring that they believe that her evangelical opinion was the only real way of salvation.
In politics, too, children should be allowed to be proud of their country and taught what their duties are. But it's best to keep them away from the partisan conflict of elections. Children are more likely to adopt their parent's opinions when they reach the age where they're ripe for forming opinions if their parent's opinions haven't been forced on them all their lives, when they were too inexperienced and lacked knowledge to form opinions for themselves. It's only by 'masterly inactivity,' or 'wise passiveness,' or capable 'letting alone' that a child can be trained
'To respect his conscience enough to let it rule him.'
Being naturally good, as if spontaneously, is something we all admire. But, even in children, this grace isn't something inborn, like a native wild-flower. It's the result of training. It's the product of years of pleasant chats about the general principles of how we should act, and years of self-restraint from parents who were practicing 'masterly inactivity' to let their children work out those guidelines in their own lives as they saw fit. Parents have the ability to guide the direction that the next generation takes. Since they have such a big responsibility, they need to be even more careful [not to make their children mirror-images of themselves, but allow them to choose their own paths, live their own lives, decide what's best for themselves. The old ways of the parents must give way to the new ways of the next generation.]
'The old ways change and are replaced by new ones
And God fulfills Himself in many ways
So that one good custom doesn't corrupt the world.'
[from Tennyson, The Passing of Arthu]r
[One preacher noted about the Tennyson quote, 'It is ordained, the new generation must have their chance to test their ideas and skills.']
The end of the eighteen century and the end of the nineteenth century have one thing in common. They both view education as one of the chief ends of mankind. The people in the 1700's had it the best. They had clear revelations from their philosophers Locke and Rousseau. They knew exactly what they wanted to do, and their enthusiasm in doing it was charming. That period of time is full of memoirs, and it's fun to read about the children of more thoughtful families being brought up consistently and with philosophical goals in mind. They had convictions, and they had enough faith in them to put them into practice. We aren't so fortunate. Just a few decades ago we too were all excited and impassioned about education. All over England and around the world, educational 'movement' schools, colleges, lectures, higher education for women, public day schools for girls, and exams for reassurance about each point were booming. It was a progressive movement, and it brought us immeasurable benefits. But one other thing it brought us is our current
dissatisfaction and depression. We tend to wonder if we're on the wrong track. If the best kind of educational work hadn't been going on for the last 20 or 30 years, we wouldn't have arrived at this discontent, which I believe is from God. It's pretty obvious that it's time to change our tactics. First we hear that elementary schools are a failure, then we hear that girls' high schools are a failure, then public boarding schools and colleges. They accomplish a lot, they say, but is what they're accomplishing worth doing? Is it even education? The bolder critics focus their attacks on our two oldest universities, but those universities will probably weather the criticism pretty well because of the very inertness, or 'masterly inactivity' that their opponents disdain. The universities are good at 'leaving alone.'
Our general discontent with the education is a healthy sign. It probably means that a wiser theory and better practices are just around the corner. One thing is more clear than ever--a stream can't rise any higher than its source. In the same way, successful work can't succeed without sound theory as its source. We begin to wonder if we were too hasty at adopting educational schemes and methods without considering the theory behind them first. Now we realize that we can't get good results from bad theories. These days, psychologists advise us, where 20 or 30 years ago, it was the schoolmaster [teache]r.
But, unfortunately, psychologies abound, and educational schools of theory bitterly fight each other. We need to find some kind of a test to discern whether a working psychology
will be effective in our age. Psychology, like every other science, is progressive [evolves with the times and new information]. What worked fifty years ago won't work today. What suits our needs now won't be effective fifty years from now. There's no such thing as a final word on education. It evolves as man's needs change. The fact that there are at least six systems being used, and none of them seem entirely perfect, even to the people using it, should indicate that those of us working in the field of education need to try to find out what's needed in a well-constructed system of psychology.
Any system that's going to be of any use to practical people in providing educational purpose, unity and progressive sequence must satisfy certain requirements. It must be thorough enough to include the whole nature of man and his relationships with everything outside of himself. It must be the only one that's necessary, it must be more adequate than any other psychology that's out there. It must relate to the living thought of our age and not be a complicated topic that's only discussed by a few specialists. Any intelligent common person should feel like its movement is in step with two or three of the great ideas that are helping to educate the world.
Of all the ideas that vague popular thought is using to raise us to a higher level, I think the most important one is the sacredness of the individual. Every person seems interesting to us these days. An interviewer does more than satisfy our common curiosity about people. What he draws out of those he interviews is interesting to us, whether he interviews a London street sweeper, a grocer, the librarian, a common middle-aged couple on an outing, an ambassador, an
author, an artist or a member of the royal family. Every detail that helps us to understand the personality of someone else is welcome. It's the same with Kailyard literature [regional over-sentimental stories, usually Scottish]. It's popular for a good reason. It may or may not have literary quality, but it tells us what we want to know. It gives everyday details about the people of any country or region. Slang dictionaries, collections of legends, long biographies that give trivial details like how a man eats and what he has for breakfast, where he walks and how he sleeps--all of these give us mental food to think about. We greatly value people, and our interest is only increasing. Any system of psychology that's going to appeal to us will have to put great priority on the individual person. People can be influenced by one thing or another or marred by one sin or another. But we recognize that the indefinable person is present even while the person is still a baby, and will have to make his own way in life and shape for himself all of the experiences, environment and education that will influence who he becomes. A system of psychology that accepts man in this kind of relationship to his education is one we should adopt. This is the kind of psychology that every mother, teacher or manager already knows about.
The next requirement of education is that it should help the individual evolve and progress. Not only should it make persons its priority, but its goal should be making the most of the person intellectually, morally and physically. What we don't want is to amass mere dead facts of knowledge, or the external ornament of mere accomplishment. We want an education
that will be assimilated so that it becomes a part of who the person is. A psychology that can show us how to educate our children this way will satisfy our requirements. The doctrine of scientific evolution has brought about more philosophical overthrow than we realize, and we shall soon find that a real education must mean the evolution and growth of the human being in every way. Merely acquiring knowledge isn't necessarily education at all.
One other idea that seems to be helping to raise mankind is the concept of the solidarity of the race. The American poet Walt Whitman expresses one aspect of this concept when he writes that he experiences victory with every triumphant general, bleeds with every wounded soldier, shares the spring morning and the wind and the open road with every traveler. In fact, he writes that he lives in all other lives that touch him in any way, even in the imagination. This is something more than the brotherhood of man, which is limited to the present time. Our sense of oneness with humanity crosses the barrier of time and space, giving us reverence for every antique relic of our own people or any other people. It gives a joyous hope in every advance of science that seems to be the promise of generations that will live hundreds of years after us. Shouldn't we expect psychology to acknowledge this great educational force as well as the other two I mentioned? These aren't the only ideas of our current age, but I think they're the ones we're all the most aware of. Any system of psychology
that doesn't take one or all of these into account can't be the basis of the educational theory and practice that we're looking for.
Now let's consider three or four of the most widely influential psychologies of today. I don't mean this to be a criticism, but as inheritors of the thoughts of other men, we should stop and take stock of what we have and how we can best use it. After all, the best thought of any age is common thought. The men who write it down in books are merely expressing what's in everyone else's minds. But we have to remember that truth often works like a country gate that's allowed to swing back and forth until it finally closes. First it swings a long way in one direction, then in the other, and the swings get shorter and shorter until the gate stops and the latch catches. A reformer or investigator latches onto one aspect of truth and it seems to be the whole truth to him. He works to advance that part of the truth to the exclusion of other aspects of truth. The next reformer seems to be reacting in opposition, but what he's really doing is bringing up a different aspect of the truth. We common people of average minds have our work cut out for us. We have to consider each side, find a balance in what's been written, and figure out where the truth is. It might be in the middle, or even as a side issue that the original thinkers on both sides missed. But we value the contributions that have been made. They serve as a bridge to carry us along.
We don't need to go any further back than Locke. He represents the more traditional ideas about education of upper middle class parents. People who claim to raise their children with good old 'common sense' the way they were raised and their own parents were raised may not realize that
their child-rearing ideas come from a great-great grandfather who read Locke. Locke didn't concern himself with the mind or soul of man. He focused on 'states of consciousness.' He believed that ideas and images could only come through the five senses. A person couldn't know anything unless he experienced it with his own senses and comprehended it with his own understanding. As far as which ideas and images should be experienced in order to educate, Locke's recommendation was to expose students to 'what's proper for a gentleman to know.' The mind (which implies the soul or inner man) doesn't seem to have much spirit or character of its own. It only has specific abilities and actions to put to use whatever ideas come into it. To explain these abilities and actions, Locke came up with the notion that has probably done more damage in the area of education than any other--the fallacy of 'faculties of the mind.'
Let's measure Locke's psychology against the standards we set up. Remember that his psychology is obliged, as much as any other psychology, to raise a higher standard. An education that stops at 'what's proper for a gentleman to know' and what a gentleman's accomplishments should be doesn't have the unity of an inspiring idea. It lacks natural progress, continuity and a noble goal. The important inner person hardly appears at all in Locke's psychology. The person is reduced to the semi-mechanical actions of his 'faculties.' You might as well say that he's no more than the combined collection of the images and experiences gathered through his senses. There's no recognition for the personal growth, evolution, or expansion of the individual in his own unique direction. According to Locke, each person is isolated in his own skin, but is taught to behave himself so that he appears to be what's expected of him. But what about the intellectual exchange of ideas?
Men who have long since died are still able to communicate their living thoughts through the works they've left behind, and these ideas are like the links of an endless chain that connect all people to one another, and allow people to influence each other across the boundaries of time and space. But ideas have no place in a philosophy where people can only know what's assimilated by their own mind after coming through their own senses. If we want to realize all of the goals and hopes we've set for ourselves in our own day, we'll need to reject Locke's philosophy, although we still have gratitude and even affection for him.
The modern school that thinks of psychology as strictly a 'natural science' is working mostly with Locke's ideas, and adding the illumination of some knowledge of biology. This school of thought agrees with Locke that the mind amounts to nothing more than 'states of consciousness.' A person can only get knowledge through his senses. That knowledge reaches the brain in the form of ideas or images. To represent this 'rational psychology,' I'll use some quotes from Professor[William] James of Harvard University. Even people who disagree with him have to respect him and admit that he explains the subject with wisdom and balance. He begins with a limiting definition of psychology: 'the description and explanation of states of consciousness.' He treats psychology as if it was natural science [i.e., purely chemical/physical, disregarding the soul/spirit of man]. He states facts that are already familiar to most of us, showing the intimate connection between acts of thought and the physical brain. Then he says, 'Considering all of these facts, the simple and radical idea dawns on us: mental action must be uniformly and absolutely a function of brain action. It varies according to the individual brain, and is to the brain action what effect is to cause. This concept is the
foundation of all current physiological psychology.' This isn't very different from the Frenchman who announced that the brain secretes thoughts in the same way that the liver secretes bile. Both processes are totally physical and mechanical. According to this logic, the only thing needed for the most profound kind of thinking is a healthy, well-nourished brain.
No wonder Mr. James has to admit that, to some of his readers, 'this kind of conclusion will seem like the most unjustifiable kind of materialism.' He admits that this might make discussion of the inner self very difficult, but that difficulty is easily dealt with. 'The logical conclusion is that all psychology needs to do its work is states of consciousness. Metaphysics or theology might prove the existence of the soul, but in the field of psychology, the theory of this kind of principle of unity is unnecessary.' In other words, the important inner part of myself that I call me is nothing more than continually changing states of consciousness that the brain causes. The identifiable character of the person, which might seem to be the one solid anchor in a shifting, changing sea, ends up being nothing more than the brain being conscious of the same objects today that it was conscious of years ago.
In his thick book Outlines of Psychology, Professor James proves with great clearness and power that all of the phenomena of intelligent life may have their sole source in the physical brain. Yet he concludes that 'when we say that psychology is a natural science, that doesn't necessarily mean that it's the kind of psychology that
finally has its roots in solid ground. In fact, it means just the opposite. It means that it's an especially fragile psychology, and the waters of metaphysical criticism leak in at every seam. All of its foundational assumptions and evidences need to be thought of as they relate to other areas, and translated into other terms. In other words, the phrase is meant in hesitation, not arrogance. It's surprising to hear people talk exultantly about the 'new psychology' and writing 'histories of psychology' when the first glimpses of clear insight into the elements and forces of psychology still don't exist. All we have is a string of raw facts, a little gossip, some debatable opinions, a few classifications and generalizations about basic descriptions--but not one single law, or one single premise that can be used to draw any causal deductions.' This is reassuring, and we close Professor James's book with satisfaction. But, unfortunately, not all 'new' psychologists are quite so modest. In fact, if I may dare to say so, some are downright arrogant. Even worse, students who read this psychology text-book are likely to assume that it's a proven fact that psychology is a natural science and--like Peter Bell's primrose [in Wordsworth's poem]--'nothing more.' Reading that disclaimer on the last page isn't going to motivate a student to re-evaluate his opinion.
It's depressing to learn that a person might not be anybody after all, just a passing state of consciousness. It kind of drains the hope out of life, since it doesn't leave anything pleasant to look forward to. After all, even if something really good should happen next year, there's no 'me' to enjoy it. There's only a 'state of consciousness' at some point in the future. There can't be any such thing as faith if
everything that happens just is, and other people and even we ourselves are nothing more than additional circumstances that add experiential data to the moment. If there are no real persons, then the divine idea that we call enthusiasm can't exist. There can be no recognition of a higher plane that we define by saying, 'This is what I believe,' and no recognition of the divine Being that we know by faith. So we lose heart. Life no longer has any meaning. We throw ourselves into whatever task is at hand with desperate but dreary energy, just to get through the day. We are glad to be amused, but even more grateful to keep busy with a feverish pace of work. Yet even the work we do is as meaningless and lifeless as we are. It has no living idea and no higher purpose. Our manner becomes apathetic, our expression dreary and uncaring. This change has already come over too many intelligent teachers. Those same teachers might have been inspired by high ideals and noble passions if they hadn't been filled with an educational attitude that responds to all hopes with the question, 'who's going to benefit from it?' We give what we have. We can't give what we don't have. What do teachers like that have to pass on to the students under their care?
But we don't need to settle and accept this ruinous philosophy. Even their best prophets, like Mr. James, admit that it's inadequate. There is more to man than this philosophy has ever even dreamed of. This philosophy isn't necessary. There are other philosophical explanations that do a better, though not perfect job, of accounting for the aspects of the human psyche. It isn't even in harmony with the times. It denies the individual personality that our age
tends to revere and magnify, and to take humanitarian interest in, even when the person has been degraded. It loses the popular feeling of solidarity, and loosens the bond of social ties and family devotion. After all, what kind of binding ties can there be between us if we're nothing more than states of consciousness?
The evolution and personal growth of the individual stops where mechanical perfection begins. Mechanical perfection might turn out good mathematicians and analytical scientists, but it leaves no place for the higher planes of the human experience like hope, reflection and devotion. We need to keep as close a watch at the psychology that undergirds our educational ideals and methods as we would watch a place where water is let loose to gush out. There's a satisfying certainty in a science like anthropometrics that uses body measurements to compare and classify. It's easy to draw specific conclusions about a child by the physical way he stretches out his arm. And, in fact, there's much good being done in the field of science these days. In the area of disease, for example, scientific tests can reveal hidden symptoms or dispositions and then prescribe medical treatment. But there's a danger that we might go too far, taking a part as if it was whole by letting this new science of psychology usurp the entire field of education.
It's refreshing to turn our minds to the school of German thought that gave us two great apostles, Pestalozzi and Froebel. From them we've gained an appreciation for childhood's enthusiasm, teachers who are loving and pleasant, and cheerful school days for children. It's unworthy to look a gift horse in the mouth, so it might seem ungrateful to criticize any weakness in a psychology that's brought so much good to education. But no stream can rise higher than its source, and I imagine that the concept that children are like cherished plants in a cultured garden has some kind of weakness. Maybe the children are tended a little too carefully. Maybe Nature is helped along too eagerly. Maybe the environment is too artificially perfect. It's possible that the rough-and-tumble routine of normal family life provides a better environment for acquiring the dignity and growth of personal character than the delightful contrived child garden [kindergarten literally means 'child's garden' in which the children are the crop]. I think we've all noticed that children show keener intelligence and more independent thinking when they're playing at home and
talking with family members than the angelic little creatures we see in kindergartens. In Fra Angelico's painting of 'The Last Judgment,' one of the scenes is of a circle of monks dancing around hand in hand with the angels on their way to Paradise. It's as if they've become as little children. They're obviously happy and very good--but, somehow, something seems to be missing. They seem to have lost the force of individual personality. They look incapable of making any kind of decision for themselves. And this may be a danger of kindergarten.
It's very true that 'if you make children happy, they'll be good.' But does that help them develop the kind of steadfast character that's the first condition of virtue? The other side of the coin is, 'Be good, and you'll be happy.' Kindergarten teachers are doing beautiful work, but too many of them are held back because they can't get away from the 'children are plants' metaphor. And that idea is totally lacking in the element of personality. Cherishing and developing a child's individual personality is a sacred and vital part of education. But the German philosophers thought of man as an impersonal part of the Cosmos. All that's needed according to them is to place things in their proper condition in order for them to develop according to their nature.
The weakness of this way of looking at things is that man seems to be under the laws of two universes--the physical and the spiritual. Energizing, resisting, repelling is the law of his existence. It might not seem to be necessary of children--perhaps their struggle for existence can begin after a peaceful, happy childhood has been provided for them. But the transition from the artificially peaceful world of kindergarten to real life must violate the principles of unity and continuity
that should rule education. Surely all thoughtful kindergarten teachers recognize where the weakness of their Founder lies and have made some modifications accordingly. After all, no man is perfect. One example of their progress towards more modern thinking is using free brush-drawing that allows children to have some initiative, instead of the cramped pencil drawing of the old days of kindergarten. Nevertheless, we all need to remember our origins so that we can recognize and avoid pitfalls.
I only have room to touch on one more psychology. Interestingly enough, this one is setting Americans apart from the school of thought that considers psychology a purely physical science, and even British teachers are beginning to snatch at this idea like a drowning man grasping for a floating piece of straw. This is the psychology of Johann Friedrich Herbart. He's also German, and lived during the time of Pestalozzi and Froebel. His ideas about the nature of man are as different from the men we've already discussed as the north pole is from the south. And there's no denying that it gives a temporary working base for education. It isn't until we examine Herbart's ideas in connection with a couple of other great thoughts upon which the world is being educated that we see the weakness of his theory. Herbart begins to account for man, but without admitting the person. (Person is meant in the common, everyday sense.) He admits that there's a soul--but then he redefines it and says, 'The soul has no ability or tools to either receive or produce anything. On its own, it doesn't have
ideas, feelings or desires. It has no awareness of itself or anything else. Not only that, but within itself, it has no form of intuition, no thought, no willing or acting, and no kind of predisposition whatsoever to any of this.' (Lehrbuch zur Psychologie, Part III, sects. 152--see Herbartian Psychology, by Sir James Adams). There are still two possibilities for the soul, says Herbart: a passive inertness, and the ability to react to an idea. By this, he means that the soul isn't quite the same after it's been affected by an idea.
Well, anyway, Herbart simplifies our problem. He reduces all of the messy complexities of intellect, will, feeling, etc. to nothing! The soul is simply tossed out to the mercy of ideas, a free field with no limits for ideas, which are like living entities, in the way that Plato meant, and the ideas crowd and jostle each other to get in, and then, once in, they vie for the best spot. The sneaky little things lie just below the soul's front porch, just watching and waiting for a chance to slip in. Then, once in the door, they hurry to join their friends, the ideas that are most like themselves. They cling and stick to their own kind, forming clumps that Herbart calls 'apperception masses.' These masses take up a fairly permanent place in the soul. And what does the soul do? Apparently nothing, except to provide an empty stage for this rushing and clumping of ideas. The self, or soul of the person, whatever we call him, is the end result of this collection of idea clumps. He's an effect, not a cause, a resulting product, not an original essence from the outset.
Any philosopher who emphasizes the power of ideas deserves some credit in the field of education. Herbart gives us some glimpses of the perfect theory, and our function in supplying the child with suitable ideas,
and with the best ideas, and how we should take care to select and arrange these ideas so that they naturally congregate together and form strong 'apperception masses' once they've managed to squeeze through the door.
This presents a fascinating opportunity for us. If Herbart is right, then education is clear and simple. All it takes is selecting the right ideas to turn out a man made to order. This is a very tempting scheme of unity and continuity! It might be possible to spend an entire month on lessons planned specifically to create one single 'apperception mass,' perhaps about 'books.' We might plan object lessons on colors, shapes and sizes of books, as well as more advanced object lessons about paper-making and book-binding. There could be hands-on crafts about sewing and binding books, and age-appropriate lessons about the contents of books. Tots could learn ABC's and Little Bo Peep, while older students could focus on poetry and philosophy. A month in which the entire school, all grades, could arrange their education in groups of ideas that could clump into one big apperception mass around the concept of 'books.' This sort of thing was actually done a while ago in London. 'Apple' was the central idea of the apperception mass.
Finding principles that unify and provide continuity among ideas presented to the mind is fine. But we believe that this unity and continuity should originate from the soul of the person himself--otherwise this tempting collection of related ideas might result in a collection of random information that the mind never assimilates.
Or, if you take two souls and provide them with the exact
same ideas in the same exact order and don't allow any other ideas to get in, you could create carbon copies of the same person. This possibility would forever destroy the great concept of the solidarity of the race. I'll ask again, how does Herbartian theory advance our interest in individual personality, our sense of the sacredness of the person? The person becomes a non-entity. He's nothing more than the manifestation of the ideas that take hold of him. He doesn't have so much as an inkling of natural tendency to prefer one set of ideas over another. Everything is random. As far as the personal growth and evolution of he individual, there's no personal individual to grow. The person is merely clumps of ideas, and that's what expands and grows. The man is simply a handy jar to give the ideas a place to collect so they can do what they need to do. Herbartian psychology has lots of interesting concepts, but we can't accept it as our educational ideal without sacrificing a few leading principles that are popular in current thought.
We've looked at three or four psychologies that are prevalent in education these days. We see that each has some truth, but none has the whole truth, or even enough truth for us to base educational practice on. So educators are having to get by on trial and error, or they borrow a bit from here and there as they need it. They're like students who are trying to solve a hard math problem where they know what the answer is supposed to be, so they try division, and then multiplication, and then subtraction until they get the answer they're looking for. I'm sure there are many capable psychologists who haven't written books yet, but who work out the complexities of education, not looking for the answer, but according to a code of
inherent principles that they've already figured out for themselves.
What psychology do I offer as one that meets the criteria I indicated? I don't claim to be a philosopher. We're just modest, practical people looking for a sure foundation to base education on. We've brought our own unbiased minds and a few basic principles to the problem. We might not have put all the pieces of the puzzle together, but maybe we've found a bit of the border here, or a corner there that indicate not so much the different separate psychologies, but a shadowy form beginning to take shape of a coherent, living educational principle that will get clearer and more distinct until we finally recognize it as our educational truth. That discovery would be the reward and triumph of our age. I'll try to humbly explain what we've discovered. I realize that no one person or society can claim, 'This truth is mine, and that truth is yours.' All truth belongs to all of us, and nobody can know how much they've taken or how much they've added.
For years, the PNEU has been working definitely and consistently on a philosophy that looks pretty adequate to me. It seems necessary and it appears to be in touch with the common thinking of modern times. (The references that follow are all from the PNEU.) Children raised with this theory of education have certain qualifies in common, no matter where they live. They are all oddly enlivened. They're not bored. They don't perk up when it's time for recess, and then slump in their seats
when they're at their desks, or at their home lessons with their tutor, which are known for their dullness. There's unity and harmony in their lives--they aren't one person when they're with their playmates, and somebody else with grown-ups. No matter who they're with, they're open, eager, sincerely interested in whatever's going on. There's also continuity in their education. Very young children are always excited about learning, but this desire for knowledge rarely survives two or three years of school lessons. Yet the natural progression of people goes from infancy to toddlerhood to childhood to youth to adult--there's no transition stage, just a natural, gradual living progression. What I propose for these children can't just be based on the evidence of a few unusual cases. It needs to be based on principles that are true for everyone.
First of all, we take children seriously. After all, they're persons just like we are--in fact, even more so. The first thing we need to clarify is what we mean by persons. We believe that the thinking, intangible soul is one with the acting, visible body in such a close union that,
'The body helps the soul every bit as much as the soul helps the body.'
If God hadn't revealed the doctrine of bodily resurrection to us, then we'd have had to imagine it anyway, because we can't even conceive of an individual without a physical, bodily form. Our friend's mannerisms and the thousand subtle changes of his expression that express his moods, the elegant power of his skilled hands, his familiar and endearing way of walking--we're unable to separate these from our concept of him. Physiological science and rational psychology has advanced our understanding of what the amazing brain cortex is capable of. It's the very root of our consciousness. It provides us with images and impulses and is
the source that gets the motor nerves to act. In other words, the brain is where habit starts. Education has an unlimited potential to teach a child the best habits of behavior, and the most noble habits of thought. Education can make sure that these wonderful habits are etched deep into the mind, ready to be spurred to action with the right stimulus. We believe all of this. Even more, we believe that the possibility for a rational education depends on the physiological foundation of habits etched in the brain. This is a new discovery, only learned in our generation.
We believe that this ability of the brain to record habits isn't all there is to it. A person needs some way of expressing and relating to the world outside himself. We also believe that the person wills, and thinks and feels. The inner part of a person that makes him who he is is always there, even when he has no conscious awareness of himself. He's not made of separate parts or faculties that act individually. Whenever he does something, whether it's taking a walk or writing a book, all of him is involved. We're used to thinking of people in dual terms--body and soul--but we need to correct our thinking. Man is one whole entity. A person is one, not several. He's neither a collection of ideas nor a bundle of muscles and nerves--he's both. Yes, he needs both bodily and mental food, but that doesn't make him two people. Deliciously prepared food makes people smile, and wine can make their hearts glad. We all know how even our spirits are refreshed after a much needed meal. On the other hand, a person can be well-fed, but have dull eyes and a lifeless expression because he isn't receiving the ideas that feed his mind. Vital,
living thought is as necessary for the physical body to be healthy as it is for the soul to be happy and healthy.
Since this is our perspective, we believe that our own philosophy is adequate. We're following advances in biological psychology with great interest, and we're using every new thing that's useful to us. At the same time, we're also following the evolution of philosophy. We realize that physical science and philosophy both see the changing human animal from a different angle--people include both aspects while being more than the sum total of them. Our educational philosophy may not be conclusive, but at least it isn't narrow and limited. We haven't cone up against any issue of life or of the mind that our philosophy doesn't encompass. I'm not sure how necessary our philosophy is, but I have to accept that a philosophy that's thorough enough to include the whole nature of man and, at the same time, scientific advances, is necessary. We find that, unlike the other theories, ours is in touch with the three great ideas that seem to be popular right now. We view the child's person as very sacred. We don't obscure his individual personality behind his academic mind or his conscience or even his soul. In this day and age, perhaps we should also include his physical development. A person is a combination of all of these, and yet still more. Our philosophy protects the child's individual initiative and demands that the teacher take a back seat. Even when the teacher is the parent, the child's individuality shouldn't be overwhelmed. It's way too easy to bury the child's character with 'personal influence,' which was so prevalent in the 1850's.
We think of education as the art of making relationships, or,
to be more clear, we think of education as the consideration of which relationship are appropriate for human beings and how those relationships can best be established. Humans come into the world with the capacity to make lots of different relationships. We as teachers have two concerns. First, we need to facilitate this by exposing children to the right ideas at the right time, and making sure that children have good habits that will allow them to make the most of their exposure to these ideas. And second, we need to stay out of the way so that our interference doesn't prevent the very relationships we want them to form.
Half the teaching people get is so pushy. Oral lessons, lectures with their outline handouts, leave no room for a mind to form its own relationship with the material, even though the information originated from various great minds. When a student learns his science from a dull textbook, even though he sees the information illustrated in nature, or gets information from object-lessons, he never has a chance of forming his own relationships with natural phenomena because his well-intentioned teacher has led him to believe that knowing about things is the same as experiencing them personally. Yet every child knows that knowing about young Prince Edward isn't the same as knowing him personally. You might say that a teacher should master the art of stepping aside and staying out of the way. People sometimes say that the usefulness of a school consists in the books on its shelves. But they sometimes miss the fact that the choice of books is a huge part education, because the books are infused with the ideas of minds that will directly connect with the minds of the students, and those are the connections that students will form relationships with.
I've known of teachers who have gone so far as
to even compose the songs and poems their students use. Imagine! Not even our immortal poets are allowed to come between the poor child and the mediocre minds of our teachers! The art of staying out of the way means that the child is allowed the freedom to develop the relationships that are right for him. That is the art of education: when a teacher recognizes the two things he needs to do, and how to do them. The natural result of the teacher's success in doing these two things is the personal growth of the individual student.
I hope to explain more fully how our theory advances the solidarity of the race. One of the ways we accomplish this is that, instead of giving students outlines of history [that list off all the events that happened], we put them directly in contact with one of the thinkers who lived then. And we're not satisfied that they only learn the history of their own country. We also try to give them some interest and knowledge of what was going on at the same time in the other countries in Europe. To make sure that the history we teach seems more real to the children, we also use some of the literature from the same historical era, and the best historical fiction and poetry about that period. And we do the same with other subjects.
Nothing in this is new. What we're claiming isn't that we've discovered a new idea, but that our theory and work is unified and energized by a comprehensive philosophy of education and a solid psychological foundation.
I've presented a working hypothesis to my readers that proposes that man is a consistent whole--a spiritual being that has a physical body. He's able to respond to spiritual forces. His body is what he uses to express himself, to take in information and impressions of his environment, and to establish relationships with the world around him. His will, conscience, affection, and reason aren't different entities inside him. They're different things that the one person does.
His Capacities: Man is capable of relating to lots of things, so he has different actions that he can do. If he has enough relationships with his world, his ability for personal growth seems to be unlimited and incalculable.
His Limitations: If he's deprived of all the relationships he should have, he is unable to develop in those ways, although he never seems to lose the potential to grow even in those aspects.
His Education: We also suggested that, once a relationship is made, it leaves a permanent mark in the tissue of the brain. In other words,
the physical impression that a thought or experiential memory leaves on the brain has the potential to become a habit. About ninety percent of our lives runs according to habit. So, if we want to be successful at education, we need to know something about the psychological and physical aspects of habit. We need to know how to start a habit and how to develop it. And we need to understand that a person being educated has two tasks--forming habits and assimilating ideas.
Physiologists and 'rational psychologists' have helped us to understand the foundation of habit so that now everyone can employ the concept of habit development. The nature of ideas, what they do, how they behave, the ability of ideas to impact brain tissue and make a very real, physical impression--all of these things are vague and we can only guess about them. But that's okay. Other equally necessary facts of our existence, like sleeping and life and death, are also things we can't explain. Every branch of science has foundational facts that we have to accept without fully understanding. When a working theory is needed, the best thing to do is to accept the foundational facts that seem the most effective and adequate. So let's just agree with Plato that an idea is its own separate being, a living thing related to the mind.
Apparently, nobody has the ability to come up with an original idea on his own. Ideas appear to be the offspring of two minds. We sometimes say, 'Such-and-such put it in my head,' and that does seem to be how ideas work, whether they're simple or deeply profound. But, once an idea is born, it seems to live forever. It might be painted into a picture, or written
into a book, carved into a chair, or simply spoken to a friend who tells it to someone else, who tells it to still another person, so that the idea goes on being spoken about indefinitely. Who can tell how long an idea goes on and on? One of the most striking things that a history student notices is the persistent way that ideas recur. The other striking thing is that ideas sometimes elude discovery until the right occasion brings them to notice. The children we birth physically will die someday and be buried. But who knows what will become of the ideas that are birthed?
Maybe we can indulge one more hypothesis. In the same way that ideas pass from one mind to the next, an idea from someone else's mind means nothing to us until it goes through a process of growth inside our own mind. That's why different ideas seem to appeal to different people. It isn't that ideas have minds of their own and indulge their personal yearning to form into 'apperception masses.' It's because people have inside themselves, probably by inheritance, what they need to attract certain ideas. To help make it clearer, we'll illustrate the concept with something visible. The relationship is something like pollen and the ovule that it's supposed to fertilize. There are various random ways of carrying the pollen to the ovule, but there's nothing haphazard about the result. The correct pollen always gets to the appropriate ovule so that the plant can bear seeds after its own kind. This is the way people bring forth ideas according to their own personal kind.
The question is, how can an invisible, spiritual idea make a real, physical impression on material substance--even substance as delicate as brain tissue? We don't know. But we have a bit of physical evidence that it does in the fact that
we experience lots of physical reflex reactions whenever an idea 'strikes' us. Our eyes brighten, our pulse quickens, our color perks up, our whole body becomes more alive, capable, strengthened, no longer weighed down under our burden of flesh. Every habit we've ever formed originated with an initial idea. And every idea we receive is capable of initiating a habit of thinking or doing. Every human has the ability to communicate with others, and, after he dies, this ability can outlive him in the work he's done or things he's said. Life is so boundless! Once we recognize ourselves as spiritual beings, we're convinced that God's Holy Spirit has the same kind of intimate power that corresponds with the human spirit.
This crowd of ideas comes to us with order and purpose even beyond our own busy efforts and good intentions. It's almost as if a new human being came into the world with the potential to make an unlimited number of relationships, but with a preference to certain of those relationships. But ideas have no way of adapting to fit different relationships. It's education's job to make sure that the person is adapted to the relationships most appropriate for him, and to be sure that the person expands and stays active. This is done with two things: ideas and habits. Every relationship needs to be initiated by its own 'captain' idea (see Coleridge's Method), which must be sustained by other appropriate ideas. These are infused onto the person's brain with proper habits. This is the job we have before us.
To explain what I mean more clearly, I'll go over the story of Kaspar Hauser,
the 'child of Nuremberg.' They say that a unique experiment was tried with him, although the experiment is cruel and should never be repeated. The truth of the story has as much evidence as most of our other data, but we'll assume that it's true if only because his experience matches up with what we know of a infant's experience, or an adult who is suddenly able to see for the first time in years! On May 28, 1828, a cobbler noticed a strange young man, about 17 years old, leaning against the wall as if he couldn't support his weight. He was uttering a moaning sound. When the cobbler came up to him, he started moaning something incoherent. He had blond hair and blue eyes, and the lower part of his face stuck out a little bit, like a monkey's. Those who watched him agreed that, although he had the body of a nearly grown man, his mind was like a two-year-old's. Yet he wasn't unintelligent--he immediately started picking up words and phrases. He had a wonderful memory. He never forgot a face he had seen once, and he never forgot a name. At first, he was placed in the jailhouse for safe-keeping. The jailer's children taught him to walk and talk in the same way they taught their baby sister. He wasn't afraid of anything. After six or seven weeks, the townspeople decided to adopt him as the official 'child of Nuremberg.' He was placed under the care of a schoolteacher named Friedrich Daumer, who attempted the difficult task of developing his mind to better match his body. Later, Dr. Daumer questioned the boy and found out a little about his life before he had been found. This is what he learned: 'He doesn't
know who he is or where he came from. He always lived in a hole where he sat on some straw on the ground. He never heard a sound or saw any bright light. He would wake up, go to sleep, wake up, and go to sleep again. When he woke up, he'd find a loaf of bread and pitcher of water beside him. Sometimes the water was nasty-tasting. He'd go back to sleep again. He never saw the face of the man who came for him, but the man finally taught him to stand up and then to walk. One day, the man carried him out of his hole' [and that's when he was found in Nuremberg.] For months after he was found, he refused to eat anything but bread and water. Even the smell of meat, beer, wine or milk made him very sick. For the first four months that he was with Daumer, his senses of sight, taste, hearing and smell were hyper-sensitive and very acute. He could see in the dark, and, in the daytime, could see farther than most people. Yet he couldn't tell the difference between a real thing and a picture of the thing. For a long time, he couldn't judge distances because he only saw things in two dimensions. He thought balls rolled because they had minds of their own and he couldn't understand why animals didn't use table manners at the table like people. His sense of smell was so sensitive that he'd get sick from the dye in his clothes or the smell of paper. He could distinguish the leaves from different trees by smell. In about three months, Dr. Daumer was able to teach him things beyond the use of his senses. He encouraged him to write letters and essays, and to use his hands to do all kinds of things, like digging in the garden. For the next eleven months, he lived a simple, happy life with Daumer, who was his friend as well as his teacher. Daumer noticed that the acuteness of his senses gradually began
to fade away, but he never lost the charming, compliant, child-like innocence that had won the town's heart.
This is an example, although it's the only known instance, of what Nature alone, unhindered, can do for a child. Kaspar Hauser came out of his long confinement unusually intelligent, with intensely acute senses, and a 'sweet, docile' disposition. This is an object lesson that would be illegal to try again, and, unfortunately, it takes more than one occurrence to prove any hypothesis. But, at any rate, this is an illuminating story, more fascinating because he emerged from his hole in many respects like an infant. He knew nothing about the concepts of round, flat, far, near, hot or cold. He'd had no experience with those things. In other respects, he was like a bright two-year-old. He had keen powers of perception, an excellent memory, and a child-like sweetness. Kaspar's story and our own personal experience prove that the work we educators do to 'develop the faculties' or 'cultivate the senses' is a waste of time. Nature doesn't need our help in these things. Even in the worst conceivable conditions, Nature can work wonders if we leave her alone. What Nature can't deal with is our misdirected efforts that hinder and impede her kind-hearted work. If left to herself, Nature presents to parents and teachers a child in the same condition as Kaspar--acutely perceptive, keenly intelligent, sweet and morally teachable. Just this one incident shows that Nature can keep a person innocently child-like until they reach adulthood.
Well, then, what is it that we, as educators, do for the child? We obviously don't need to develop the person; the person is already there and probably already has every ability he'll ever need to serve him for his entire journey through life. Some day even the word 'education' will be out of fashion, perceived as belonging to the days when teachers thought their job was to draw the 'faculties' forth from the child. Instead, there will be a new word for what goes on between teachers and students--maybe something like 'applied wisdom.' After all, wisdom is the science of relationships, and the thing we need to do is to do our best to put students in touch with all the relationships that are proper for them.
We begin to understand what kinds of habits we need to help students form, and that troubling question of what subjects children should be taught. We no longer debate the benefits of a classical education vs. a modern one. We no longer wonder whether it's better to master just a few subjects thoroughly, or to get exposed to a smattering of lots of different things. We realize that these questions miss the point. When I discuss the relationships that we may initiate for a child, I'll begin with what some might think of as the lowest rung on a ladder. Let's assume that a baby is placed in this wonderful world for the specific purpose of forming connections of intimacy, joy, association and knowledge with all the living, moving things in that world, as well as what St. Francis called brother mountain, brother ant, and brother stars. A full life, and joy in existence, depend on establishing these relationships. But what do we do instead? We
think over the matter carefully. We decide that children will get confused if they learn science in more than one or two fields. We ask our friends, 'Which kinds of science will get the best grades on the SAT?' and, 'What's the easiest science to learn?' We research to find out which is the best science text in a specialized area of study. The student learns what he's supposed to from the book, he listens to the lectures, draws diagrams, watches demonstrations. The result is a student who has 'learned' a science. He can regurgitate facts and figures about that one specialized branch of science, at least, he can for a while. But he hasn't gained any affectionate intimacy with Nature. Let me describe what seems like a better way for the child.
This child's parents understand that recognition is the first step in intimacy. So they don't measure his educational progress only by his proficiency in the 3 R's. They also want to know how many living and growing things he knows by name, sight and habitat. A six year old can eagerly note the sequence when each different kind of tree puts on its leaves in the spring. He can tell you whether to look in the hedge, the meadow or the bushes for meadow eyebright, wood-sorrel or ground ivy. He won't think that flowers were made only to be picked, because,
'He believes that every flower
Enjoys the air that it breathes.'
He'll take his friends to see where the milk-wort grows, or the marsh trefoil, or the meadow fern. He doesn't take the birds in the air for granted. He soon knows when and where to expect the redstart and the titlark each spring. He admires the water-skater and dragonfly as interesting acquaintances. He's experienced the beauty of crystals with sparkling eyes, and
he knows what lime and quartz look like, although he may not have been able to find them in their natural environment. He knows the lovely pink of felspar and lots of other minerals.
Appreciation for beauty usually comes after recognition. Notice how, from the time he's little, this young child tries to capture a flower's beautiful color and graceful form with his own paintbrush. A wise mother is careful to make her child aware and appreciative of stylized art. She has him look at a wild cherry tree from a distance, or a willow tree with its soft pussy willows. Then she shows him how the picture on a Japanese screen has captured the very look of the thing without being an exact representation. When he compares a single pussy willow or cherry blossom with the ones in the picture, he can see that the pictures aren't attempts at exact duplication. From an early age, he learns the difference between painting what we actually see, and painting what we know is there even if we don't see it. He learns that it's more satisfying to try to paint what is actually seen.
Soon the child goes from nodding acquaintance to pleasant recognition of familiarity, to real knowledge--the kind of knowledge that we'd call science. He starts to notice a similarity between wild roses and apple blossoms, a resemblance between buttercups and windflowers, and some sameness between the large rhododendron and the tiny clustered heather flower. At his mother's suggestion, he'll initiate his own research to find out what specifically makes them alike--and then he'll discover the concept of plant families. His little discovery is real science because it came first-hand. In his own small way, he's like Carl Linnaeus.
All this time, the child is storing up delightful associations that will come back to him and give him pleasure
when he's an old man. With this kind of educated appreciation of things from the beginning, his foundation of exact scientific data won't be merely some dull facts picked up in text books to pass a test. He'll want this information because a natural desire to know about it has been planted in him. It works the same way with art appreciation. The child who has been taught to really see will appreciate pictures with an educated, discriminating eye.
This is how a child goes to work setting up a new relationship: one little seven-year-old girl was rowing in a boat for her first time. She commented, 'There sure is a lot of crab-water today!' The next day she remarked, 'There's not as much crab-water today.' When asked, 'How can you tell when there's crab-water?' she answered, 'It's so tough, and you can't get your oar through, and it knocks you off your seat!' Her facts were all wrong, but she was getting a taste of real science and would soon be on the right track. This is so much better than learning from a text-book that, 'the particles which constitute water have no cohesion, and may be easily separated by a solid substance.'
When we consider that our main moral and intellectual priority in life is setting up relationships, and that the function of education is to put children in contact with the relationships that are appropriate for them, and to offer the inspiring idea that will initiate a relationship, we understand that little incidents like the one I just told are much more important than passing a test.
Geology, mineralogy, physical geography, botany, nature, biology, astronomy--the entire realm of science is like a beautiful fenced green field and we need to bring the child to the gate and leave it open for him. He doesn't need a thorough collection of facts. He needs what Huxley calls 'common information' so that he'll feel some connection with things on the earth and in the heavens. He'll feel as interested as if he owned it all--the same way that a man does when his parents die and he inherits their old house with its reminiscent heirlooms.
We expect more than the Jesuits did. They wanted to have a child until he was seven to educate him. But we want a child until he's twelve or fourteen, if not longer. After that, it hardly matters what anyone does with him--with this time to establish relationships, we'll be able to turn him out as a capable man, enthusiastic, energetic, full of living interests, available and able to be of service to the world. I think he'll even be able to pass his SAT's, since his education will teach him how to find interest in even the most boring tasks.
But we aren't done with his relationships with the earth yet. We still have to establish what I call dynamic relationships. He needs to stand and walk and run and jump
easily and gracefully. He needs to skate and swim and ride and throw and dance and row and sail. He should feel free on the earth to do whatever gravity will let him do. This relationship between him and his environment is foundational, and nothing can compensate for it if he doesn't get it.
Another foundational relationship that every child should learn and be encouraged in is the power to handle materials. All children make sand castles, mud pies and paper boats. They should also experience working with clay, wood, brass, iron, leather, fabric, food, and furniture. They should be able to make things with their hands, and this should be a fun and satisfying experience for them.
The fourth relationship is between them and the animal kingdom. This relationship should be one of intelligent understanding and kindness. We should all be on friendly terms with the 'inmates of our house and garden.' Every child wants to be friends with the creatures around him, and,
'The one who prays best is the one who best loves
All things, both big and small;
Because the wonderful God who loves us,
Has made and loves them all.'
Perhaps the major part of a child's education should be concerned with the great human relationships--relationships that consist of love and service, authority and obedience, reverence and pity and kindness, relationships with family, friends, neighbors, causes, country, like-minds, people in the past, and people in the present. In one way or another, history, literature, archaeology, art, ancient and modern languages, travel, adventurous journeys all record or
express the feelings and thoughts of real people. Because we're human, we're interested in all other people. After all, we're all one flesh, and of one spirit. Anything that one of us does or experiences is interesting to the rest of us. There are thousands of children in our schools today who could become apostles, evangelists, missionaries to Asia who could unite east and west, great archaeologists who might make us aware of people who lived thousands of years ago. But we need to approach these children with living thought and living books in order to awaken in them a sense of a personal bond with others in the world.
It's up to us to expose them to the awakening idea, and then to help them form a habit of thinking and living. Here's an example of what a young person could do. Quoting from the Academy: 'From the beginning of his career, young Henry Rawlinson was interested in the history and antiquities of Persia. He attributed his interest to his conversations with Sir John Malcolm the first time he had come to India, and when he had happened to be stationed in Kirmanshah, in Persian Kurdistan. The Rock of Behistun stands near there. It has an inscription carved on its face in three different languages. Now we know that the inscription is from Darius Hystaspes, who restored Cyrus' Empire. The wedge-shaped cuneiform letters it was written in had baffled all attempts to decipher the inscription. Risking life and injury, Rawlinson tried to climb the rock, which is almost inaccessible, so he could copy the easiest of the three inscriptions. After studying it for a long time, he figured out that it was Persian. Two years later he had discovered how Persian words were translated
into cuneiform characters.' And what was the result? 'Now we can access the chronicles of empires that were more highly organized than any of the states in Greece, going back to dates much earlier than science had said man first appeared on the earth. The changes in our thinking as a result of this new information, can't even be estimated.' And it's all because Rawlinson climbed up the Behistun Rock, which was due to his interest sparked by talking with Sir John Malcolm.
We can't all be like Henry Rawlinson. But it does seem probable that the only thing that limits our intelligence is lack of interest. What I mean is that we don't establish enough personal connections with humanity itself--with those we love, those who we owe duty to, those we're responsible for, and, most of all, we fail to make real, living relationships with those who are near or far off in time and place. Our scholars work away at the drudgery of learning one or two foreign languages, and at the end of ten to twelve years, they still don't know them very well. But if you give him a motive by introducing him to people he longs to know but can only communicate with in that language, then he could probably be like Sir Richard Burton and speak in almost any known language.
I think we could have a great revolution in education if we stopped thinking of people as a collection of assorted 'faculties' and realized that we are people whose mission is to get in touch with other people of all kinds
and in all conditions, from all countries and climates, and from all times, both past and present. If we realized that, then history would seem fascinating. Literature would be like a magic mirror, showing us other people's minds. Anthropology would become a duty and a delight. We would tend to become responsive, wise, humble and reverent people, recognizing the responsibilities and joys of the full, abundant human experience. Of course, it isn't realistic to accomplish all of that in a student's education, but we can look to that as our goal. Every life is shaped by the ideal it sets for itself. We hear discussion about lost ideals, but maybe they're not really lost, just changed. When the ideal we focus on for ourselves and our children becomes prosperity and comfort, we may get it, but that's all we get, and nothing more.
Current psychology has had an odd effect on our sense of duty. If humans are nothing but 'states of consciousness,' then they can hardly be expected to live up to moral responsibilities, except the ones that sound appealing at the moment. Duty that's imposed from a higher authority or due to our fellow man out of brotherly love, has no place in current psychology. It would be interesting to see how many ten year olds could recite the Ten Commandments, and if they knew what the 'duty to God and my neighbor' means. Or, if they're not members of the Church of England, if they knew how their own denomination interprets the duty of man. Children used to get a pretty thorough Biblically-based ethics education using the Ten Commandments as a foundation. They knew St. Paul's commands to 'love your brother,' 'Fear God,' 'Honor the king,'
'Honor all men.' 'Seek to live a quiet life.' They understood that having thoughts of hatred and contempt were related to murder. They knew what King Solomon said about virtuous women, sluggards and fools. They didn't just know the precepts. They could show examples of spiritual laws from both Biblical and secular history. We English may not have the treasure of moral teaching carved in wood and stone, like some countries are proud of. But, up until this generation, our moral teaching has still been systematic and thorough enough.
[Miss Mason is quoting mandates from two of the apostles. 'Seek to live a quiet life' is an instruction of Paul's recorded in 1 Thess 4:11. The other instructions are from 1 Pet 2:17.]
Look at common experience to see if this is true. We reject all stories with morals for our children (and usually for good reason). We want their books to be entertaining, and that's about all we ask. We prefer that they be literary and maybe somewhat educational. But we don't look for a moral stimulus 'fitly given.' It's not that we totally neglect teaching ethics, but our teaching is hit or miss. If we happen to stumble onto a story that's heroic or displays self-denial, we're happy to point that out to our children. But they rarely learn that there's a specific ethical system that rests on the foundation of the universal brotherhood of mankind. We're impressed if a child can merely parrot the words, 'My duty towards my neighbor is to love him as myself, and to do unto him what I'd want him to do unto me.' A lot of wonderful things are written these days about the brotherhood of man and the solidarity of the race, but nothing that gets to the heart of the matter like the simple Biblical command.
If we accept that the priority of education should be
establishing relationships, then the relationships between our fellow human beings should be the most important ones to establish. Any relationships that aren't founded on the duty to our neighbor--such as relationships founded on common likes in art or literature--are likely to degenerate into sentimental attachments. And, oddly enough, the ability to think independently seems to vanish when moral insight disappears. You might wonder, 'how are we supposed to get a systematic plan to teach our children ethics?' I really don't know how to do it if we choose to forego the Ten Commandments and old-fashioned expositional teaching illustrated with examples. There are thousands of supplementary ways to teach ethics, but they need to rest on a solid foundation of awareness of the duty God placed on us and our responsibility to others, whether we accept it or not. Without that foundation, supplementary teaching will probably be casual and not very binding. The moral responsibility of one person to another is the foundation of all other relationships. We have an obligation to past generations to make use of what they discovered, and to advance mankind from where they left off. We owe it to those who will come after us to prepare the next generation to be better than we are. And we owe it to the present generation to live full lives, to enlarge our hearts and broaden our souls. We all need to come out of ourselves and reach out to all the relationships we're meant to have.
We're responsible for bringing knowledge to the ignorant, comfort to people who are distressed, healing to those who are sick, and reverence, courtesy and kindness to everyone, especially the people who we're connected with because they're in our family or neighborhood. This sense of duty doesn't come naturally. All of us know shallow young men and women who don't care about any of these things. But do we wonder
why that's the case? And do we ask ourselves how many children today are growing up in decent homes, yet just as untrained about their moral obligations concerning relationships as those shallow youths that we revile and blame? Yet maybe they don't deserve all the blame, because they were neglected children in their upbringing.
There's another way in which we need to prepare a young person for his relationships in life. He needs to be familiar with a working psychology/philosophy that will help him as he relates to himself and others. Maybe the world isn't ready for a true science of life, but, unfortunately, we're more limited than the ancient world. They took full advantage of what they had, and the result was that they produced men like Marcus Aurelius, Epictetus the Stoic and Socrates. They didn't think their youth were ready for their futures until they had learned philosophy. Modern science has added a lot of knowledge that will help us relate to our own individual selves in such areas as self-management, self-control, self-respect, self-love, self-help, self-denial, and so on. This knowledge is even more important because our ability to handle our relationships with others is dependent on our relation to ourselves. Every person carries the key to human nature within himself. The more we're able to use this key, the more tolerant, gentle, helpful, wise and reverent we'll be. A person who has 'given up on expecting anything' from his servants, his children, his employees or other workers is displaying how ignorant he is about the wellspring of conduct within each of us.
I think our own Parents' National Educational Union can claim some progress in this area. Most of the people who are associated with us are familiar with our perspective on the five senses, how the will works, how to handle our temper, the concept of attention, the desires and affections that are where conduct springs from, and other practical aspects of managing one's own self. We've heard that some people are using that great old children's method of 'changing your thoughts' with angry, delirious, or even depressed patients--and it's working! We (of the PNEU) feel like we have a wonderful tool in our hands, and we know how to make it work. At any rate, the principle seems right. If we blunder in applying the principle, we don't give up, we try again, both for ourselves and for our children. We know that 'one good habit can replace a bad one,' and that one idea can displace another one. We don't give up and abandon a child to his selfishness, greed, or laziness. These are faults that can be treated. A child who has experienced a bad habit cured with his mother's help will be more likely to believe in the possibility that others can be reformed, and that simple, practical methods can be effective.
Sociology is a long word, but it implies a practical relationship with people that children need, and it gives them one kind of knowledge that they're ready for. The carpenter, the gardener, the butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker are all fascinating people. It's surprising how much a child at a port can get to know about boats and sails and fishermen's lives that adults totally miss because they aren't observant. Most working men will be
upfront with a child and answer his questions. The child is able to notice the men and their craft behind their veil of words. In his 'Book of Trades,' which is like a Who's Who for the common people, he'll look up names in the Recreation section, shoemaker section, tailor section, factory section, as much as he'll look up famous authors or a member of Parliament. There's nothing as good as early intimacy to help a child get to know different kinds of people. Abraham Lincoln knew how to get along with everybody because he had been intimate with all kinds of people in all kinds of situations ever since he was little.
We are realizing more and more how valuable clubs and committees and debate societies for youth that are governed by their own members are. Organizing skills, business habits and some ability to speak in public should be something that every citizen knows how to do. To teach public speaking, I think it would be a good idea to encourage more narration instead of written compositions. For the most part, it's better to be able to speak than write. A person who can speak well can usually write well, too.
The topic of human relationships with one another is inexhaustible. I'll just bring up a few points and repeat my conviction that a system of education should make it its focus to establish children's relationships in as many varied directions as possible--rather than mastery of certain 'subjects.'
I've tried to show that human beings don't come into the world to develop their faculties or to acquire knowledge or even to earn a living. They're here to establish relationships, and these relationships provide immeasurable broadening of the human experience and fullness of life. We've already discussed two kinds of these relationships--the physical universe, and mankind. To complete his education, one more relationship needs to be considered--the relationship with Almighty God. How many children today learn as toddlers from their mother to say in all the fullness of its meaning, every day and every hour, 'My duty towards God is to believe in Him, to fear Him, and to love Him with all my heart, all my mind, all my soul and all my strength; to worship Him, to thank Him, to fully trust Him, to call upon Him, to honor His holy name and His word, and to serve Him all the days of my life'? The exact wording that children learn about their duty to God isn't what's important. But most of us will agree that the wording I quoted doesn't ask any more of us than yielding to our duty. Unfortunately, many children never even learn this minimum requirement. The concept of duty isn't woven into the very fiber of their beings as it should be, and their duty to God, which ought to be the very foundation of their lives, is the most neglected of all. Children are growing up with religious sentiments and religious feelings, and they say quaint and surprising things, which shows that they have an insight of their own into their spiritual life.
But duty and sentiment are two different things. Sentiment is optional. Young people grow up thinking that belief in God, fear of God and love for God is an option. They don't learn that these are things that must be done. There's no free choice about loving and serving God, that's their duty. Loving God with their whole heart, mind, soul and strength is what they owe to God, but that's rarely taught or understood properly these days. Even if we have tender religious sentiments, our doctrines are often vague and lax. Children even of kind, religious parents grow up without having an intimate, always open, always friendly, continual communicative relationship with Almighty God. That relationship is the very fulfillment of life. Whoever has it, has eternal life. Whoever doesn't have that relationship is ice-cold and dead in their heart, like Coleridge's 'lovely Lady Geraldine,' no matter how much they strive for success in all their other relationships.
'I want, I'm made for, I must have a God
Before I can be anything or do anything.
I don't want merely a Name.
I want the real thing, and everything that
proves it.
In other words, I want a relationship between
that Thing and me,
Touching everything from my head to my toes,
And when I feel this Touch,
I gain everything else--I gain life itself!'
[loosely paraphrased from Browning]
Every now and then, we in England need to stop and see what others are doing about education in Europe. We still refer back to long-past German educational reformers. We may not be as familiar with Comenius, Johann Basedow or Wolfgang Ratich [or Ratke], but we all know something about Pestalozzi and Froebel. But what do we know about Johann Friedrich Herbart, the man who succeeded these two and has pretty much displaced them in the area of teaching methods?
German educators are using Herbart's methods and nothing else. This is evident when you realize that the amount of books written about his method are more than all English books written about education put together! A small book called Outlines of Pedagogics by Professor W. Rein from the University of Jena, translated into English by C. C. and Ida J. Van Liew, gives a brief introduction to Herbart
and his method. The author even makes allowances for advances that have been made in the decades since Herbart died.
Since Herbart and those who rely on his method represent the most advanced school of thought in Europe, I think it will be interesting to compare the educational ideas I'm suggesting, and Herbart's ideas, which have had so much influence in Germany.
One of the most characteristic distinctives of Herbartian thought, the idea that makes it a new school of educational thought, is that it rejects the concept of separate mental faculties. The earlier reformers, most notably Pestalozzi and Froebel, divided the faculties with the precision of a phrenologist [i.e. one who feels the shape of a person's skull to pronounce mental capacity]. To them, the priority of education was to 'develop the faculties.'
There's an orderly neatness about this concept that makes it very attractive. We like to know exactly what we need to do. With this method, you simply develop the 'perception' faculties here, then work on the 'conceptual' faculty, then do a lesson on 'judgment,' then exercise the 'affection' faculty, until you've covered them all. Each 'faculty' receives its proper share of development exercises. But Herbart and his followers have changed all of that. They see the mind as being like a cloud in Wordsworth's poem. When it moves at all, the whole thing moves together as a single unit. [Creativity, beauty appreciation, reasoning, math readiness, comprehension, imagination, reflection, etc. aren't separate 'faculties' that need to be developed; children were born already having these things.]
This might seem to be just a slight difference in the foundation. But when it's recognized, education itself changes its front. The whole contrived system of carefully
organized lessons designed to develop one faculty or another, becomes questionable. The whole reason for doing specialized intellectual gymnastics is questionable if there are no such thing as muscle 'faculties' to develop. Education must have some other goal. And if education has a totally different goal, then the methods, since they're the means to the end, will need to change to reflect that. This far, we're in total agreement with Herbart. We agree that 'faculties' don't exist, we agree that it's a waste of time to try to develop them, and we agree that the purpose of lessons is not 'faculty' development. This will necessarily change the entire course of education and the method we use to teach.
We're still nodding in agreement with Herbart when he recognizes that an idea has a force of its own--especially ideas that are trendy at the moment. 'The family circle and public discussion are both influenced by forces that are active in the social world. Those forces penetrate the entire atmosphere of human life via invisible paths. Nobody knows where these forces come from, but they are there. They influence humanity's moods, dreams, and inclinations. Nobody, no matter how powerful they are, can avoid their effects. No king can command their direction. Often, these forces originate as the idea of some genius, and once it makes its way into the public arena, it's swept up by the masses who don't remember its author. Then the idea, active in public thought, impels individuals to take some kind of action with conviction. Thus, it comes full circle. These ideas begin in the minds of highly gifted people, but permeate all of society. They don't reach just the
adults, but even the young fall under their spell. Eventually, they come back around to other highly gifted people who refine them and elevate them to a definite form.
'Is the force of these ideas greater in the individual, or in society? It doesn't matter. The important thing is, their effect on one results in a proportional reaction in the other, and their influence undoubtedly affects the younger generation.'
We agree wholeheartedly with Herbart that nobody can escape the influence of the Zeitgeist. The Zeitgeist, in fact, is one of the most powerful spiritual forces in education. Parents, teachers and anyone else connected with training children need to recognize its existence and be prepared to make adjustments accordingly.
Nature, family relations, social dialog, this 'Zeitgeist' force, the church, government--all of these are influences that children are raised under, says Professor Rein as he interprets Herbart. He says that these are our children's schoolmasters, and we'd be wise to think about that thought. 'Education starts with the family; from there it goes out...' says Herbart. Just like us, he considers that what happens in the family is the most valuable part of education. This is because of the union shared in common, the dependence on the head [inferring first-hand experience with the concept of authority/submission?], and the fact that the youngest members are so intimately known and understood.
All the members of a family look to the head. This sense of being dependent fosters the proper attitude for receiving the most precious thing for mankind--which is
the religious feeling. If the home atmosphere is permeated with a noble reverence, then a sincere faith can take root in the hearts of the children. A child's faithful devotion to guiding parents in his youth grows into faithful devotion to God who controls human destinies. Herbart expressed this idea beautifully: 'A child should see his family as the symbol of order in the world. His parents should provide him with the ideals of God's divine characteristics.'
We have always strived to present education as something that springs from and rests on our relationship to God. We are firmly committed to this idea. We don't seek to provide a 'religious education' as an alternative to some other kind of education, like secular education. We believe that all education is divine. Every good gift of knowledge and insight comes from God. God the Spirit is, ultimately, the One who educates mankind. The culmination of all education (which is approachable even for a little child) is personal knowledge of God, and an intimate relationship with Him. In that relationship, our being finds its fullest perfection. In fact, we agree with the great concept of education that the Medieval Church held. It's illustrated on the walls of the Spanish chapel in Florence. It shows the Holy Spirit coming down on the twelve apostles. Directly under them, fully covered by the illuminating rays of the Spirit, are seven noble figures representing the seven liberal arts: grammar, rhetoric, logic, music, astronomy, geometry and arithmetic. Under these are pictured the seven men who received and expressed the original concept
in each of those subjects, as far as the artist could tell. Pictured are such men as Pythagoras, Zoroaster and Euclid. We might think of them as pagans, but the early church recognized that they had received divine knowledge and enlightenment.
This next quote of Herbart's is one we fully endorse, because it contains the very goal of our society. 'Of all the duties of the family, the highest and most holy is the education of the children. The welfare, civilization, and culture of society essentially depend on how successful education is at home. Religious life and educational life meet and revolve around the point of the family principle. Compared with the influence of family, even a king's command seems powerless.'
By the way, I'll mention that Dr. Rein's mention of Rousseau is a little misleading. It's true that in his book Emile, the parents are displaced, but notwithstanding that fact, perhaps no other educationalist has done so much to make parents aware of their great responsibility in educating their children. After discussing the conditions of training at home, Dr. Rein begins to discuss schools a) as they exist for real in Germany, and b) as he envisions them in his own ideal. This topic should be very interesting to parents.
Teleology (the theory of the purpose of education) is the subject of the next chapter in Rein's book, and it's very informative. It's good for us to realize how much uncertainty there is on this fundamental point. In fact, few of us are clear about our own goals and ideals in our children's education. We don't know how much is possible, so,
since people don't usually achieve more than they aim for, our education ends up inadequate and disappointing,
'Should educators follow Rousseau's advice and bring up a child of nature in the middle of a society of civilized people? As Herbart showed, doing that would only cause us to repeat the entire progression of the evils from the beginning that have already been overcome as we've progressed. Or should we listen to Locke and prepare our children to be secular participants in a secular society? The next step is to follow the teachings of Basedow and train our children to be truly useful members of human society. But we'd always have nagging doubts about whether that was the best ideal purpose after all, and whether we sometimes feel like our students are at odds with the way the rest of the world operates. But if we think about man's unlimited potential for self-improvement, then we realize that we need to have high ideals if we want to reach the lofty goals we have in mind.
'Therefore, educators need to have an ideal and a goal in mind. Pestalozzi might help in providing information and forming an ideal, since his very nature demonstrated such ideal tendencies. He wanted all of mankind to benefit by harmoniously cultivating all abilities. But most people don't really know what's included in his multiplicity of mental powers, or what he meant by harmony of various powers. The phrases sound good, but aren't satisfactory. The purely formal aims of education won't be any more appealing to educators. 'Educate the student to make him totally independent,' or, 'Teach the student to teach
himself,' or, 'Educate the student so that 'it' will be better than 'its' teacher.' (Hermann and Dorothea, Hector and Astyanax in the Iliad.) These kinds of attempts to fix education's purpose are abundant in the history of teaching, but they don't bring us any closer to the goal. For instance, they don't say what kind of independence the student should have, what kind of subjects should be taught, what goals the teacher should keep in mind, or which direction it should to go in. The student who finally realizes the goal of becoming independent can freely use his independence for good or evil.'
As far as we can tell, Herbart's own theory of education is mostly ethical rather than intellectual. In other words, developing and sustaining the intellect is only secondary. Building character is the first priority for humans, because, a) if we train character, then intellectual 'development' will take care of itself, and, b) the lessons created for intellectual learning have high value for the character, either by training the discipline or stimulating character. We're familiar with this concept. We've always taught that building character is the goal of education. So far, we're in total agreement with Herbart, but, if we may say so, what we've learned of physiology has brought us to a clearly defined aim that Herbart desired but never could reach.
Herbart says that we must appeal to psychology, but then he adds, 'of course, we can't expect an agreeable answer from all of the psychologists. There is still some confusion
here, in the difference of perspectives about the nature of the human soul, and the great difficulty met by the empirical method of research. A final explanation can hardly be expected, under the circumstances.'
This may be the case with psychology alone, but when psychology is illuminated with physiology, it's a different story. Studying the vague area between mind and matter is what's most helpful to educators. The brain is where habit originates. The culture of habit is a physical endeavor, to a certain degree. The discipline of habit makes up a third of education. The advances in the field of physical science give us an advantage that Herbart didn't have fifty years ago. We 're in total agreement with him about the importance of great formative ideas in the education of children, but in addition to formative ideas, we believe in the forming of habits, and we work to form habits that will effect the physical tissue of the brain. Character doesn't just come from exposing children to great ideas. It's also the result of habits that we strive to instill based on those ideas. We recognize both principles--idea and habit. The result is that we have a wide range of possibilities in education, practical methods, and definite aim. Our goal is to produce a human being who is the best he can be physically, intellectually, ethically and spiritually; a person who will have the enthusiasm of religion, full life, nature, knowledge, art, and physical work. And we're not clueless about how to achieve it. I've tried to share in a previous chapter what I see as the root problem with Herbart's educational philosophy: it tends to eliminate individual personality, and therefore leads to odd
futilities in teaching. It's more pleasing to note that certain basic ideas that have been around for a long time and are part of our own educational scheme, also appealed just as much to a brilliant, original thinker like Herbart.
England seems obsessed with physical fitness these days. I doubt this much attention has been focused on physical training since the original Greek Olympics. But this obsession seems to suffer from a lack of unity, and from devotion to any real purpose. That lack makes a large amount of our educational efforts worthless.
We want to create a fine specimen of a human, with a fit physique and good health, and that's exactly what we get. The progress in women's development, especially in the last twenty years, is amazing. I heard someone comment recently that the stiff little brocaded dresses that we still see in a few places from the days of our great-grandmothers seem to be made for tiny women, while the girls we're rearing today who will be tomorrow's grandmothers show promise of being much larger women. So far, so good. Yet I doubt that we're creating heroes--and, for the Olympians of Greece, training heroes was the object of their physical training. Men needed to be heroes. How else could they fulfill the heavy tasks that the gods required of them? Heroes aren't made in a day, so boys
were trained to do heroic exercises from their infancy, and girls were brought up to be mothers of heroes. Glimpses of heroic character can still be spotted to this day in the little country of Greece, with its great historic legacy. A few years ago, the mother of a fallen soldier was told, 'Your son behaved like a hero.' And she replied, 'That's what I raised him for.' Englishmen can die like heroes, too--but can they live like heroes? Too often, the purpose for English men and women developing a healthy, strong body is the poor and narrow goal of getting the most out of life, especially physical enjoyment. So our youth go to extremes, training their body to endure hardships, and then pampering them with comfort and self-indulgence. Both are done for their own pleasure. Pampering is even more enjoyable when it follows training, and training is a pleasant change of pace from the softness of pampering.
Some British youths prefer enduring hardness all the time, so they go off in the spirit of a reckless Viking warrior looking for adventures. But even that's not the best we could do. The object of athletics and gymnastics should be kept constantly before us. There's nothing wrong with pleasure and enjoyment, but it shouldn't be the end goal. The end goal should be a prepared body that's trained and ready from head to toe for whatever request 'the gods' may ask of us. It's odd that we, who have the benefit of God's revealed Word, have less of a concept of vocation and preparation than the heathens of the ancient world who had only 'a few faint, weak' rays to enlighten them about the meaning and purpose of life. 'You're your own,' seems to be the unspoken thought
of most of our youth these days. They seem to think they belong to themselves and are free to do whatever they want with their bodies. Therefore, excess in sports, too much casual fun, obsessive amounts of studying, an abundance of pointless reading, careless disregard for health, any excess they feel like is okay if they think it's worth their while. This isn't outright sin, but it's a loose kind of morality regarding their physical responsibility, and it's probably the reason why the world doesn't benefit as much as it could from such a robust, strong generation of young people.
Children should be brought up from their earliest years with the concept that, 'You are not your own.' The divine Author of your being has given you life, and He has given you a body perfectly adapted to serve Him. He's given you the job of keeping your body healthy, nourished to be strong, and trained to be fit so that it will be ready for whatever special work He gives you in this world. If children grew up with that idea stamped into their psyche, then they would be more content to embrace a Spartan-type of regimen. They would want to be available for service. Physical neglect and excess, no matter how harmless it seems, would be unacceptable to someone who felt that it would be like trifling with a sacred trust.
It's worthwhile to keep the concept of living under authority, whether exercising or serving, in the forefront of children's minds. A heroic impulse is strong in children, and they're usually glad to embrace a disciplined life of their own accord. This doesn't mean that we'd decrease the pleasures of youth by even a fraction. Actually, it would increase, because a disciplined person is more able to experience fresh enjoyment than someone who's undisciplined. Also, it's not right for parents to impose unnecessary hardships on their children. Parents made that mistake in the 1700's and even the early
1800's. Hunger, cold, and denial (but not self-denial) were thought to be good for children. All we're saying is that every child should be brought up with a sense that they're under authority when it comes to governing, managing and training their bodies. They should recognize that health is their responsibility, and that toying with their health, either deliberately or by being careless, is related to suicide. Their life is held in trust by a Supreme Authority.
It might be helpful to parents and teachers, and beneficial to
children, to read about these kinds of subjects:
Greek games and Greek heroes
How a child can be trained so that he's fit for meeting his
responsibilities
What the body is supposed to be used for
Extremes that seem innocent but are excessive
What's acceptable and what's wrong when it comes to home discipline
The heroic impulse
How games can be used for physical training
The uses and abuses of sports
Parental authority as it relates to physical matters
The right uses of self-denial
Governing, managing and training the body
The responsibility of staying healthy
It's good for a child to learn to control his body and keep it under subjection to his parents, and, as he matures, to his own will, and, even more than that, to the God who made him. We always need to keep ourselves under subjection to God because that's the very least that's required of us. But if we had to constantly make ourselves be subject to those in authority over us all the time, it
would take a constant amount of conscious deliberate work, and life would be a struggle of constant effort. That's why staying under authority needs to become a matter of automatic habit. We all know a little about how a habit starts, and most of us recognize that habits have a physical aspect. If you say or do something often enough, it will leave a physical mark on the brain tissue, like a rut, that makes it easier to do it again, and eventually becomes automatic. When it comes to our physical body, it's easy to see that after you do something a hundred times, it starts to get easy, and after a thousand times, it becomes mechanical so that it's as easy to do it as it is to not do it. This principle is used all the time in baseball, boating, golf, cycling, and the other labors that we enjoy. But athletics develop habits of life that are half physical, half moral. If those habits aren't practiced steadily and regularly at home, then they become associated with the sport and are put on and taken off with the team uniform. It's the duty of parents to give their children these habits. They do make up part of the training of well-raised children, and it's still good to keep them in focus and not to lose sight of this aspect of raising children.
Most educated mothers carefully train their children to have a habit of restraining themselves in the area of indulgences. They feed their children healthy, appetizing foods, and their children don't crave a little of this or a taste of that. It doesn't seem to matter to these children whether they're limited to one or two pieces of candy a day, or none. Children in lower economic areas, even when they get plenty to eat and are sufficiently clothed, still seem to have an animal instinct to bask in the heat of the fire. But the real danger is that, after learning good habits at home and in the early years of school, children might lapse into bad habits as they get older. It's so easy
to get in the habit of lounging on the sofa with a novel in between scheduled amusements. In past days, this kind of idleness was a matter of principle. Lazy, loitering intervals simply weren't allowed. When people weren't using their time for physical work, they were doing something useful. We might not value the cross-stitch that our grandmothers left behind, but it was better for them morally and physically than the leisure of lounging around with some light book. Maybe we tire ourselves too much with strenuous sports. It's worth considering whether it's healthy to exercise so frequently and so intensely that we have no mental or moral energy left when we're done playing.
Children who aspire to live a disciplined life should be trained from the beginning to have the habit of self-control in a crisis. This stems from having a general habit of self-control. We've all seen how ice accidents, boat accidents, fires (like the tragic disaster in Paris recently - the Paris Charity Bazaar Fire of 1897, in which panic hindered escape) could have been minimized if just one person there had kept his head and been able to organize and lead everyone else. Having presence of mind in an emergency comes from keeping control of oneself, being unaffected by small annoyances, staying cheerful about minor inconveniences, and being ready to act in minor crises. If children went into the world fully equipped with presence of mind, then we wouldn't have so many embarrassing examples of ill-tempered British men and fussy British women at foreign customs.
There wouldn't be so many people jostling for the best spots at public events. Women wouldn't be so fretted and stressed by mistakes that their maids make. All kinds of little hassles of social life would be soothed if children were trained to tolerate little physical discomforts and emotional offenses gracefully. It's good to teach children not to show when they're annoyed, because every kind of exasperation, impatience, resentfulness, or nervous irritability usually increases if it's vented, but decreases with self-control. It's good to remember that our physical actions affect our mental state as much as our mental attitudes affect us physically.
Disciplining a person's habits is never complete until he has self-disciplined habits. :-) It's not a trivial thing that doesn't matter when a preschooler makes a mess at the table, spills his milk, breaks his toys, and dawdles about his little tasks. A well-trained child enjoys achieving good habits in these things. He knows that being clean, neat, brisk and orderly are helping to make him a man, and, in his mind, a man is like a hero. Some parents don't secure good habits in their child before he starts school. They assume that school will take care of it. But habits that are only practiced at school and never at home because 'it's summer vacation,' don't really become life-long habits.
Habits can have a tendency to become local--in one house, a child will be neat, alert, and diligent, but he'll be messy, dawdling and lazy in another. This just shows how important it is for even young children to have self-discipline.
'Self-reverence, self-knowledge, self-control,
Only these three lead life to sovereign power.'
We all understand the concept of training the proper habits so well that I don't need to convince anyone that these habits aren't really habits if the child only does them while someone is making sure he does them. Children need constant supervision at first while they're learning, but gradually they're left to do what they should be doing on their own. Habits of behavior, posture, addressing others, tones of voice, etc., are all the habits of a gentlemanly bearing and courteous manner. They're part of the self-discipline of the physical body.
'When you first arrived, there was such courtesy
In your every movement and even in your voice, that I knew
You had to be one of the men who dines with King Arthur.'
Many good men and women regret the opportunities in their lives that have slipped through their fingers because of their passiveness. They missed the chance to do some little service or act of courtesy because they didn't notice it in time. It's a good idea to bring children up to feel a certain sense of failure if they miss a chance to relay a message, open a door, carry a package, or do some other small act of kindness that presents itself. They should also learn to seize every opportunity to learn something. It's natural for children to regard every adult they meet as a fountainhead of knowledge about some particular subject. They should be trained so that they never grow out of this inquisitiveness. Success in life depends to a large extent on how alert they are at seizing opportunities, and this skill belongs to the category of physical habits. Opportunity is often symbolized as a figure flying by so fast that there's no way to catch it except
by grabbing its forelock as it approaches.
Closely connected to alertness is the habit of quickly perceiving everything there is to see, hear, feel, taste and smell in a world that gives out unlimited information that can only be taken in through our five senses. A Mr. Grant did some studies of character in Naples and described the training of a young Camorrist (Camorrists are a dangerous political group notorious for violence and blackmail; nevertheless, their training methods are worth looking at). 'The major goal of his training was to teach him the habit of being observant to every minute detail, and with accuracy. Here's how they would do it: They'd be walking down the street and suddenly the instructor would ask, 'What was the woman wearing who was sitting by door of the fourth house on the last street we passed?' or, 'What were those two men talking about that we met at the corner of the third to the last street?' or, 'Where was cab number 234 asked to drive to?' or maybe, 'How tall is that house, and how wide is its upper window?' or, 'Where does that man live?' ' This is also a habit that falls under the category of physical skill, and is trained by learning to be observant in other areas. Young children are naturally quick to notice everything, but that can't be relied on. As they get older, especially as they get preoccupied with school lessons, they lose the powers of perception they had when they were little. But if they're trained to see everything around them, and to hear all there is to hear, that habit will stay with them all their lives. I don't have time to talk about any more of the physical habits that help develop a child's mental and moral habits, but it might be useful to
read about and reflect more on the teaching of these subjects:
Self-control in emergencies.
Self-restraint in indulgences.
Self-discipline in habits.
Alertness to seize opportunities.
Promptness and energy in physically exercises.
Quickly perceiving everything there is to see, hear, feel, taste and
smell.
The ability for a habit to become morally binding depends on how much inspiring power the idea behind it has. When I was little, I had a book of sayings translated from Greek and Roman classics. The fine, rolling sentences full of substance made a big impression on me. It's easy to understand how Greek and Roman boys who were brought up on these kinds of literary ideas developed virtues that we seem to lack. In the same way, the early Church brought to life three evangelical virtues, four cardinal virtues, and the seven deadly sins. If we want our children to take up the mission of disciplining their habits, we'll need to revive this kind of teaching. When it comes to developing our children's habits, all we can do is get them started.
If you touch the right well-spring of inspiration, children will prove to be capable of an amazing amount of persistent effort. A ten year old I know made up his mind to run three miles a day by himself during his hot summer vacation because he was going to be in a race when school started again in the fall. And it wasn't that he was so interested in sports, but his older brother had made a name for himself by winning races and he wanted to do the same thing. When we consider
how we as adults seem so unable to do the things we put on our to-do lists every day, it makes us appreciate the compelling power of children when they have the right inspiration. Fortitude is a big word, but it's what little boys need when they're sitting in the dentist's chair. It's helpful for a child to think of Fortitude as a manly, knightly power to tolerate pain and inconvenience without showing discomfort. The story of the Spartan boy who hid a fox under his shirt will cause a child to admire the boy's Fortitude, perhaps inspiring a girl not to fuss about physical irritations. She'll have the same shame in complaining as the disciples did when Jesus asked, 'Couldn't you watch with Me for even one hour?' and she'll brace herself to bear up so she can be of service. Brutus's wife Portia showed what she was made of when she hurt her sensitive skin to prove that she was strong enough to share her husband's concerns.
Service is another knightly quality. A child should be so inspired by heroic examples to serve, that he hates letting an opportunity to serve pass by him.
Courage should also be developed as a habit rather than a rash impulse. All children have courage in them naturally. They only need heroic examples to fan the flame of their bravery, and they need to learn that the task that needs doing is always more important than the person doing the task.
Caution is also part of chivalric service, whether we're serving our country or our family. Courage without caution is recklessness. But, as it relates to the physical body, caution is mostly concerned with the duty to stay healthy. I once heard about a boy at a school where a lot of instruction had been given about matters of health and hygiene. He got very anxious and stressed about the care of his health. That kind of worry isn't
what I mean by caution. The kind of caution I'm talking about should think of every power within our physical means as a way of serving and defending what's right. It's a shameful thing to do something carelessly or recklessly that would make any part of the body unfit for that kind of service.
The highest inspirational impulse we can have when it comes to physical purity is the scripture that says, 'Your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit.' But we present the concept so inadequately! There are so many inspiring ideas that should support the physical training and teaching that our children need. Teaching such virtues as purity, perseverance, courage, stability, caution, and moderation using inspiring examples should help teachers and parents to prepare their children better for their life responsibilities. Parents are wise to make sure that their children are fit and ready for service It's not just important that they maintain their physical health and cleanliness, but they also need to be able to manage and control their own bodies. Parents do this by training the proper habits and inspiring them with examples of chivalric service.
All of us recognize that our bodies are subject to physical laws. We know that if you put your finger in the fire, it will burn, if you're exposed to a virus, you'll get sick, if you live an active, balanced life, you'll be rewarded with good health. We know very well that we experience the law's penalties or rewards in everything we do physically. Some people go even beyond that and feel a personal sense of God's hand as Lawgiver in matters concerning their health. When we're sick, we have a special feeling that God is dealing with us, and it makes us examine ourselves and try to learn what He's trying to teach us. We live under a moral law, too. Sometimes we don't think through our actions and we make bad decisions, but we have a feeling of regret and we're very aware of the penalties.
But in intellectual matters, we tend to hold onto our rights. We don't acknowledge any authority or abide by any law. We believe that every person is free to their own opinion, no matter how casually they form it. Every man kindles the wisdom within him, as if it's a little light, and feels that all that's expected of him is to live up to that wisdom within himself. In fact, our attitude regarding
our own intellectual processes is what gives us a disturbing sense of having a dual nature. That misperception causes the ruin of many lives, anxiety in many others, and a casual, shiftless drifting of even more. Our intellectual thoughts aren't a separate thing from our outward actions and spiritual prayers, or even from our physical state of being. Man isn't a combination of separate entities. He is one spirit that lives in a visible physical form, and he's able to do many different things. He can work ethically, love unconditionally, pray faithfully and live righteously--but all of these actions are the outpouring of his thought-life and the kinds of things he thinks about.
We tend to offend the law intellectually, opposing authority, in two ways. First, we tend to think that everything is an open question. We forget that there are three things that man's reasoning will never be able to prove or disprove, even though men in every age have tried. God, Self and the World are the three things. Active scientific western minds try to confirm again and again that there's no place for God in the world. They've developed such a pleasant, eager concept of Self that one major school of philosophy has gone so far as to demonstrate that the world isn't really here, it's just a mirage that we're projecting from our own minds. The more passive Eastern mind, on the other hand, tends to regard Self as a passing phase always in a state of being absorbed by the deity/universe. But God is, Self is, and the World is. They exist with all that their existences imply, no matter what we think or what we 'prove.' Once we accept that, then we have a more humble
attitude. We suddenly realize that all around us, above us, behind us, inside us, there are 'more things than we could ever dream up in any of our philosophies.' We get a proper perspective of ourselves as persons. We're confined to our own little corner of the universe, and we live and breathe and move in and under a supreme authority. We can't assume that everybody realizes these things. We may all have heard something about it, but very few people have a real, living realization of this ultimate reality.
The second area where we need to recognize our limitations is the nature of our Reason and what it does. At least, we call it Reason, but it would be more accurate to describe it as our power of reasoning. We all know what it's like to go to bed with some issue on our mind. We say we'll sleep on it, and, in the morning, viola! The whole problem has come into focus. We see what it involves and we know exactly what we need to do. We're so used to taking this kind of miracle for granted because it happens so often that it becomes routine. It doesn't even occur to us to be surprised. We even have a rational explanation for it. We say that the mind is clearer after a night's sleep, even though that should make no difference since it isn't a clear mind in the morning that solved the problem--we didn't solve the problem at all. The solution seemed to have come all by itself. In fact, when we stop to think about it, most of the decisions we arrive at seem to come to us in this way. We can't honestly say that we've thought out a certain matter, because the solution comes to us in an inspired flash, or intuition, or whatever you want to call it. This is a broad subject, but the only thing I want to emphasize is that children should understand that a lot of our reasoning and thinking out is actually involuntary. It's a natural function in the same way as our blood circulation. This very fact means that the Reason has to be limited.
Certain individuals might or might not be trusted to come to a morally right conclusion about any premise on their minds. In any case, the reasoning ability itself acts in a mostly mechanical and involuntary way. It doesn't necessarily arrive at the right conclusion. The only job Reason does for us is to logically prove any idea that we decide to entertain. For example, we've already said that schools of philosophy in both eastern and western thought entertain the idea that the real, physical world doesn't exist, it's man's conception. Logical proofs of this concept pour into their minds so much that books proving this seemingly absurd idea abound. We all know that if we entertain the notion that a servant is dishonest, or that a friend isn't really our friend, or that a certain dress makes us look fat, some power from within us that's unconscious to us will go to work collecting evidence and presenting clear-cut evidence to confirm it to us. This is how wars and persecutions and family feuds all over the world have started. That's why it's so important for children to learn that their reason is limited. Then they won't confuse logical arguments with eternal truth. They'll know that the important thing is the ideas they allow themselves to entertain. The conclusions they draw from those ideas aren't foolproof because they evolve all by themselves.
There's a third fallacy that lies at the root of our thinking, and therefore, needs to be addressed in our education. We all admit that nature, morality, and theology are pretty much divine in
origin and what they relate to. But we tend to assume that intellect is man's own sphere and his exclusive domain. Even knowledge--clever inventions, knowledge about mankind, nature, art, literature, the heavens and earth--is assumed to be man's own discovery. He thinks he found it out all by himself, thought it out for himself, observed, reasoned, collected, worked, gathered his forces, all of his own accord for his own purposes as an independent agent. This is intellectual pride and it comes from man's arrogance. It isn't just true of our modern age, which I think is the best age the world has seen, but in every age, mankind has tended to lift his head and say, 'We are the only people who matter. There's never been anyone as advanced as us before, and there never will be.' But when we come to our senses, we realize that our Creator and Father has not given over any aspect of our lives to our sole care.
The knowledge that's given to us seems to come to us in meals. There are great eras of scientific discovery or ages of literary activity or poetic insight or artistic creativity that seem to come from time to time, followed by long intervals so that there's time for the world to assimilate the new knowledge or idea. After that, the world seems to be swept off its feet with a flurry of great minds involved with that idea. Yet we haven't learned to discern the signs of the time, or realize that this is the routine way that God provides us with knowledge which is, after all, just as divine as God's nurture and admonition. The medieval church recognized this great truth. John Ruskin eloquently explained how the 'Captain Figures,' or inventors, of grammar, music, astronomy,
geometry, arithmetic and logic all spoke what had been put inside them as a result of the direct outpouring of the Holy Spirit--even though none of them had any recognition of God as we know Him. We could revolutionize education if we could understand that seemingly dry and dull subjects like grammar and math are supposed to come to children in a living form, revealed by the power of the Spirit who 'shall teach you all things.'
It might seem like the line of thought I'm suggesting is interesting but impractical. Yet nothing is as practical as a great idea because nothing else produces so much practical effort. We must not shun philosophy. Education is nothing more than the application of philosophy. It's our job to train children according to the wisdom we have within us, rather than according to the latest new trend in educational methodology.
'Man, know yourself,' is good advice that we might rephrase as, 'Child, know yourself, and know your relationships to God and mankind and nature.' In order to give children the preparation they need to live, parents need to know a little bit about the laws of the mind and where knowledge comes from.
The second part of our subject is forming intellectual habits. It shouldn't take long to discuss it. We know that 'ability' means having about a half dozen of these intellectual habits. They make a person able to do whatever he wants to with his mental ability, and to use only a tenth of the wasted brain tissue to do the same amount of mental work as a person without disciplined mental
habits. We also know that the mental habits we're talking about are acquired by training, they aren't a natural gift. It's been said that even genius itself is really only an unlimited ability to exert oneself. We might say that genius is the habit of exerting oneself with infinite pains, and every child is born with the capacity to do that.
We put too much blind trust in the training that's supposed to give certain mental habits. We suppose that the classics cultivate one habit, math cultivates another mental ability, and science still another. And they do, as far as each of those subjects is concerned, but they probably don't form those habits in a general sense like we expect. If you take a mathematician out of his field of math, he's no more superior than anyone else. In fact, he's apt to make a blunder like making a big hole in a door for a big cat, and a little hole for a little kitten! Studying the humanities doesn't always make a man humane--meaning broad-minded, tolerant, gentle and honest when it comes to the opinions and situations of others. It isn't the fault of the individual subjects. It's our lazy habit of trying to misuse each of these subjects as if it was some sort of a mechanical tool for plowing and planting that's to blame. Parents don't get off the hook. Even more than teachers and curriculums, it's up to them to form the mental habits that will give their children an intellectual advantage all their lives.
I don't need to refer again to how habits begin. But perhaps most of us are more diligent and definite when it comes to forming physical and moral habits than we are about intellectual habits. I'll just mention a few intellectual habits that should be carefully trained in children
during their early childhood. Attention is the ability to focus the whole mind on the subject at hand. Concentration is a bit different from attention because it's actively working with some problem instead of just being passively receptive. Thoroughness is the habit of not being satisfied with a vague, fuzzy understanding of a subject; the mind feels unsettled until it can gain a clearer knowledge of the subject. An encyclopedia is a great help in clearing up any confusing points. Intellectual Determination is the ability to make ourselves think of a specific subject at any given time. Most of us know how unruly our own minds are. But, if a child gets used to enjoying effort for the sake of effort, then he'll find it easier as an adult to make himself think about what he wants to think about when he wants to think about it. Accuracy isn't only taught via math. It's also taught through repeating little statements, delivering small messages and doing daily routine tasks and errands. Reflecting is the ability to mull over ideas and thoughts. It's usually well-developed in children, but it somehow gets lost with a lot of other precious natural abilities as they mature. Nothing is more pitiful than the way we let intellectual impressions pass through our minds without even making an effort to consider and retain them.
I'll just mention one more mental habit. Mr. Romanes, a young scientist, asked Darwin how he maintained his intellectual life. 'Meditation,' was his answer. Apparently Romanes placed great value on this advice. Meditation is another habit that children should acquire. Actually, it needs to be preserved more than acquired, because we believe that children are born knowing how to meditate, just like they're born knowing how to reflect. Reflection and meditation are closely related. When we
reflect, we mull over knowledge we've received. When we meditate, we don't just go over the past, we let our minds wander and consider the subject from all angles and to its logical conclusion. Christians have known for a long time that spiritual progress depends a lot on meditation. In the same way, intellectual progress needs more than mere reading and studying a subject diligently. It takes an active surrendering of all of the mind's abilities to work on the task at hand. That's what the word meditate infers. It would be easy for any of us to add a dozen more intellectual habits to this list, and considering them would undoubtedly be valuable and interesting.
Intellectual life, like all the other facets of spiritual life, can only live and grow on one food: the nourishment of living ideas. I can't repeat this too many times or emphasize it too insistently. This is probably the area we fail in most often when raising children. All we feed them are dry, gray ashes from a fire of ideas whose spark of original thought has long since been extinguished. We give children inferior story books with tired clichés, unimaginative situations, mere threads of other people's thoughts, and unoriginal, worn-out attitudes. Our children complain that they already know how the story is going to end! Even worse, they can predict how every page will play out. Just the other day I heard someone say that children don't like poetry, that they prefer an exciting story told in prose. I have no doubt that they like the story, but poetry does appeal to children, although in other ways. Shelley's Skylark will captivate a child sooner than any touching tale. What about art? We tend to hang their rooms with sentimental illustrations [such as this 'Christmas number 'picture * * *] and the pictures in their books are
even worse. We're getting a little better in the area of children's illustrations, but there's still room for improvement.
There's been lots of discussion about 'children's literature,' and I only have one more thing to add: children have no natural appetite for twaddle. There's probably less need for a special genre of literature for children than book publishers would have us believe. On any general adult list of 'the hundred best books,' I think that seventy-five of them would be well within the range of a seven or eight year old. They would love Rasselas. Eöthen would be as fascinating to them as Robinson Crusoe. The Faërie Queen, with its allegory and adventures of knights and sense of traveling freely in wild wooded areas, is right up their alley. What children want is to be brought in touch with the very best living thought. If we bring it to them, their intellect will feed on it with no meddlesome intervention from us.
It's up to us to initiate and direct children's independent intellectual development without controlling or dominating it--but often, we don't even recognize its existence. I know a little nine year old girl who brooded every day because the house she was visiting didn't have her favorite Tennyson poems in any of their larger volumes of books. She actually missed her favorite poems in the same way that a child would miss a meal. And why not? The intellectual appetite is just as real and just as compelling as physical hunger. Perhaps more so in some cases. In H. King Lewis's book The Child and Its Spiritual Nature, there's a cute story told by Miss Martineau about the intellectual awakening of 'a ten year old boy who plopped himself down on his tummy with Southey's
Thalaba on the floor in front of him on the first day of his Easter vacation. In spite of his inconvenient position, he turned the pages quickly as if he was looking for something. A few hours later, he was done. He took it back to the library and came back with Southey's Curse of Keharna. He went on to do this with all of Southey's poems and some others for the entire short vacation, hardly wanting to move except to run to the library. After this process, he was so changed that his family couldn't help noticing it. The look in his eyes, his facial expression, the way he phrased things, even his walk was different. In ten days he had matured years intellectually, and I've always thought of this as the turning point in his life. His parents were wise enough to kindly leave him alone. They were well aware that school would end the opportunity to indulge in his new interest soon enough.'
In the same way that a child who has been brought up always aware of the presence of God won't usually have a dramatic conversion experience, parents who have always satisfied the intellectual craving of their children won't have the pleasure of witnessing a literary awakening. One little girl whose parents had strong convictions against alcohol said, 'I'm so sorry that my father isn't a drunk,' because she wouldn't be able to rejoice in his conversion and reform. That's exactly what we mean. :-)
If children are provided with an abundant feast of ideas, they'll naturally take on the process of selecting from them on their own. Tennyson's lines--
'Our elm tree's ruddy-hearted blossom-flake is fluttering down,'
'Ruby-budded lime,'
'Black as ash-buds in the front of March'
have done more to interest children in botany than any Science and Art Department with all of their equipment, lectures and exams.
Browning also provides nature inspiration:
'Beside boulders with lichens that look
Like spots on a moth, and small ferns attach
Themselves to the polished rock.'
Concepts of nature, life, love, duty, heroism--children will discover and select for themselves from the books they read. The authors of the books children read contribute more to their education than any deliberate lessons. This is precisely why children need to choose these vital ideas and allocate them for themselves.
I'll discuss the burning question of what kind of curriculum will provide children, not with the hard, dry bones of mere facts, but with facts that are wearing warm flesh that's been made alive by having the vital spirit of dynamic ideas breathed into them. The other day, a teacher complained that it was difficult to teach from Freeman's Old English History because it had too many stories--never recognizing that that it was the stories teaching living history, while all the rest was dead.
Sometimes there's an unconscious inherited stingy attitude that came down from the days when people had less money and there weren't as many books. It can make parents unnecessarily restrict their children's school books. Children should have living books, varied from time to time, and not thumbed through from one generation of schoolchildren to another until the mere sight of them is tedious. But the subject of feeding children's minds with ideas is so
extensive and important that I'll have to be satisfied with giving just a few concise suggestions. For further study, books about these topics should be helpful:
1) What kind of books children like in fiction, poetry, travel,
history, and biography, which is the most interesting subject.
2) The concepts about life and behavior that children assimilate from
their reading.
3) Concepts of duty that are assimilated in the same way.
4) The concepts of nature that children latch onto
5) The leading, life-giving ideas in school subjects such as geography,
grammar, history, astronomy, ancient history, etc.
Once more, I'd like to bring up John Ruskin's description of the 'Captain Figures' heading each of the Liberal Arts in his commentary of the fresco at the Spanish chapel from Mornings in Florence. And I'll conclude with a wise quote by Coleridge about Plato's method, which should always be on the mind of anyone involved with training children--
'He didn't want to help the passive mind store the various bits of knowledge that were deemed most important, as if the human soul was nothing more than a storage bin or banquet room. He wanted to place the mind in the relationship of circumstance that would incite its growing and germinating abilities so that it would produce new fruits of thought, new concepts and imaginations and ideas.'
Much of this chapter was delivered by Charlotte Mason at a PNEU conference, which was printed in her Parents' Review magazine.
Here are three principles underlying the educational thought of the PNEU. Some of us are passionate about advancing them. (a) Authority is recognized as a fundamental principle. It's as universal and inevitable in the moral world as gravity is in the physical world. (b) Habit has a physical basis, and forming habits is an important part of education. (c) Ideas are living and have the ability to inspire.
First let's consider the principle of authority, which is the foundation of moral teaching as well as religious teaching. The word 'ought' comes from the verb 'to owe.' We owe a personal debt to a Lawgiver or Ruler, or whatever people want to call the final authority. Even if some choose to use the name of Buddha or Secular Humanism, they can't escape from the sense that there's a moral authority. They recognize that what they ought to do is the same as what they owe--it's a debt to some higher power or person outside of themselves. God has created us in such a way that, no matter how much we're in the dark about God's name, we can't for a minute escape from our sense of
'ought,' which is the law. The farther we are from the light of revealed truth, the more flesh-torturing and spirit-quenching the awareness of 'ought' will be. The concept of authority holds no vague anxiety for those of us who know the name of God and have the revelation of Scripture. We know what's required of us. We understand that the requirements are never dogmatic or frivolous. They're an essential part of the way things are, necessary for the moral government of the world, and necessary to satisfy the unquenchable desire that every soul has of rising to a higher kind of existence. Parents are great in the eyes of their children, and that's as it should be, but that fact should make them more careful not to forget that their authority is derived from Someone else.
'God doesn't allow' us to do this or that shouldn't be said all the time, but it should be consciously in the minds of parents. Parents should study the nature of divine authority in the place where it's revealed most fully: in the Gospels. There, they can see that authority works by principles, not by rules. Since they're the deputy authorities assigned to manage their household, they should consider the methods that the Divine government uses. They should discern the signs of the times, too. We tend to think that people can only act according to how much information and wisdom they have within themselves, therefore, it's right for them to do whatever seems to be right in their own eyes. In other words, every man is his own final authority about what's right and wrong. It's urgent that parents keep this tendency in mind so that they can counteract it if they need to.
On the other hand, it's good for them to understand that authority has its limitations. They must not force unwilling compliance. Even the Divine authority doesn't compel. It shows the way, protects the misguided traveler,
and strengthens and guides people's ability to compel themselves. It allows a person to make a choice about whether to obey or not, rather than forcing him whether he wants to or not. When we're trying to teach morals, arbitrary actions almost always make children rebel. Parents think they're succeeding if they only rule their household, but they don't always consider the nature of their authority, the principles behind it, and its limitations.
An American who wrote about teaching children morals said, 'The school teacher's job in teaching morals to children is to present the subject matter to them. It isn't their job to confirm the validity of it.' This has been disputed for at least two thousand years. Socrates opposed this concept in his own day, although then it was expressed as, 'Man is the measure of all things,' 'However something appears to a person, that's the way it is for him,' or 'Truth is relative.' These days we say that a person can only live by his lights. In other words, there is no authority or truth or law beyond what every person has within himself. The logical conclusion of this kind of teaching is that God is unknowable. If there is a God, he doesn't exist for us personally because we can't have any kind of relationship with him. It's when they're little and still at home that children need to learn that duty can only exist in the sense that it's something we owe to God. God's law is enormously extensive. It encompasses us like the air that we breathe, only even more so because God's law even reaches to our most secret thoughts. This isn't a truth that's difficult to live with. It's a joy. Mothers love their children and want to make them happy all day long--this is part of God's law. Children are happy when they're being good, and unhappy when they're being
naughty--this is also part of God's law. If Thomas drops his spoon, it falls to the floor--this is God's law, too, although it's a different kind of law. Mothers and teachers can't give children a better gift than a constant sense of being ruled and surrounded by law. And that law is just another name for God's will.
Every child is born with a conscience--a sense that he ought to choose right and reject wrong. But children aren't born with the ability to tell good from evil. An educated conscience is rarer than we think. Every once in a while, we're all shocked when our neighbors, who we've always considered conscientious, commit some improprieties in areas we consider obviously wrong. To be fair, our own moral inconsistencies are probably just as shocking to our friends. It's the fault of our inadequate moral education that resulted in us hardly even being aware when we're confronted with some erroneous thinking or insincere speech. We seem to think that, although Latin and Greek require determined teaching, morals come naturally. A certain makeshift kind of morality that varies according to our conditions does come by heredity and environment. But that beautiful, delicate human gift of an educated conscience only comes by teaching with authority, and supplementing by example.
It's odd how educated people can be silent about the moral status of children. A while ago I was listening to an interesting discussion among members of an educational club about children and lying. It was interesting that the group, which was made up of capable, intelligent people, was equally divided into those who thought that children were born pure, and those who thought that children were born corrupt.
It didn't seem to occur to anybody to think back to his own childhood or to even reflect on his own human condition at the current moment. The issue was whether children are born moral or immoral. Nobody recognized that every person comes into the world with unlimited possibilities to do good, and, sadly, just as unlimited potential to do evil. They may have inherited negative tendencies, but proper training can cure that. Or they may have inherited good tendencies that a lack of training can cancel out.
We don't need to go any farther than the Ten Commandments and Jesus' instruction about the moral law to find suggestions to help correct the erratic, impulsive efforts at teaching what we think it is to 'be good.' The best place to find a clear, practical commentary about the moral law is in the Church Catechism. Bishop Ken, the venerable Father of the Church, used to recite the 'duty towards God' and 'duty towards my neighbor' every single day. It's not a bad habit to imitate, and it wouldn't be a bad idea to let children of all denominations learn these short summaries about the 'whole duty of man.'
The poets give us some wonderful help in this kind of teaching. Look at this, for example, from Wordsworth's Ode to Duty:
'You seem so stern, but yet you are
A truly blessed grace.
There isn't anything more fine
Than your kind smiling face.
The flowers even wait for you
With perfume for your feet,
You keep the stars from going wrong
So heaven's fresh and sweet.'
Or Matthew Arnold's lines about Rugby Chapel:
'Servants of God! Or maybe
I should call you sons because
You knew, not as mere servants,
Your Father's innermost thoughts,
He who unwillingly witnesses
One of His little ones lost
It's you who are to be credited if Mankind
Hasn't yet, in its weary journey,
Fainted and fallen and died!'
Or this from Tennyson:
'More than once in our fair island story
The way of Duty would have led to glory.
The person who always follows Duty's commands
Through toil of heart, or knees, or hands,
Through the long tunnel to the far light has won
An upward path and has prevailed.
The tops of the Duty's peaks that he has scaled
Are very close to those shining lands,
Where God Himself is the shining sun.'
Or Matthew Arnold's Morality:
'Tasks that are determined in moments of insight
Can be fulfilled through long gloomy hours.'
There might not be any better way to inspire children than by leading them to reflect on some excellent poetic teachings, adding love to law, and adding devotion to duty. Then children will know for themselves, both by duty and prayer, that they are
'Bound by gold chains around God's feet.'
The medieval Church kept to classical traditions. It tried to answer Socrates' question: 'What
should we do, and what do we mean by the words 'should' and 'do'?' And it answered the question as far as it could by using object lessons--visible objects to symbolize spiritual truths. In the Arena Chapel in Padua in Italy, there are pictures by Giotto that depict Faith and Unfaithfulness, Generosity and Envy, Love and Hostility, Justice and Injustice, Moderation and Excess, Hope and Despair. They're illustrated very plainly so that even uneducated and non-reading people can understand what they're supposed to be. In the gothic Amiens Cathedral that John Ruskin called 'The Bible of Amiens,' we can study the same theme a little differently. [The stone carvings are incredibly detailed and beautiful!] It includes Pride and Humility, Moderation and Excess, Purity and Lust, Love and Hatred, Hope and Despair, Faith and Idolatry, Perseverance, and Disbelief, Harmony and Conflict, Obedience and Rebellion, Courage and Cowardice, Patience and Anger, Gentleness and Sarcasm. They're paired in groups of four, one pair above the other, each group under the feet of one of the Apostles. Each Apostle represents a specific virtue. But we don't have anything to teach us which are cardinal virtues and which are deadly sins.
We don't have any 'official' teaching by any authority in the area of virtue. As a culture, we haven't sculpted any organized teaching in marble, we haven't painted a program of virtue lessons on our walls, and nothing about which evil vices should be avoided. Yes, our poets speak out for us, but their moral sayings that sparkle like precious jewels on the finger of time are scattered here and there. It's casually left as a matter of chance that our children might happen to glimpse the lines that will inspire them with the impulse to live virtuous lives. Perhaps we neglect all supplemental ethical lessons because we have the Bible. But how much and
how often do we use that? The Bible is the most perfect system of ethics. It's the most inspiring and captivating collection of ethics lessons that the world has ever seen. But I think we fail to spark our children's hearts with the concept that they are required to be perfect, 'even as your Father in heaven is perfect.'
It's time for us to start seriously working on the moral education that needs to be taught. The most important thing to do is to expose children to high ideals. 'Lives of great men remind us that we, too, can make our lives something excellent.' Studying the lives of great people, and reading about great defining moments in the lives of lesser people, is very inspiring for children, especially when they realize what strenuous childhoods some of these great people had. As we grow older, we understand more and more that the fully matured person evolves from the child so that 'the child is like the father to the man.' We're amazed when we see so many people we know personally whose lives are the result of fulfilled dreams they had since childhood and early youth, and who consistently lived one day after the next virtuously.
The Bible is a treasure-house of inspiring biographies. But it would be good if we could plan our teaching so that we brought out in each Bible character the master-thought of his thinking. Queen Victoria did this very tactfully and powerfully in the Albert Memorial Chapel. The prophets and patriarchs are presented there showing the special virtue of act of faith that seemed to be the keynote of his character. It's a nice attempt to revive the kind of teaching they did in the medieval era that I mentioned earlier. We see the same thing again in the
Song School at St. Mary's Episcopal Cathedral in Edinburgh. Phoebe Anna Traquair painted frescoes on the walls to illustrate the Benedicite, omnia opera. 'Holy and humble men of heart,' for example, is pictured as three men of our own time from three different schools of thought. The only one I remember is Cardinal Newman. The power that this kind of master-idea can have, and the unity it can bring to a life, might be exemplified by our beloved Victoria's prophetic childhood statement, 'I will be good.' Few children in Britain haven't felt thrilled at that phrase. Maybe one day Queen Victoria will know how much good was done because that simple child's promise was fulfilled so well, and it inspired the whole Empire to have a similar moral impulse.
[Phoebe Anna Traquair's murals from St. Mary's Episcopal Cathedral in Edinburgh are featured in the first part of a video on YouTube.]
After biographies, the most effective way to inspire children is with the burning words of our poets, such as Ode to the Iron Duke by Tennyson. Rudyard Kipling may be the poet who has done the most to stir the flame of patriotism. His words, 'Our wistful mothers teach us to consider old England our home,' open a flood of patriotic feelings. The complete poems The Native-born and The Flag of England both fan our love for our country:
'No island is so small,
No sea is so alone
That over its clouds and palm trees
The English flag hasn't flown.'
This poem of Kipling's inspires our hearts with patriotic feelings:
'Buy my English flowers
From Surrey and from Kent
Violets damp with water
From the English Channel sent.
'Cowslips grown in Devon
Brambles colored bright;
Buy my English flowers
And you'll buy my heart's delight.'
When reading the Bible, or poetry, or the best prose, it's fun and productive to collect mottoes, especially if they're kept in a book. Headings may or may not be used. It would be a nice idea for children to make a new book every year with a motto they find every day from their own reading. It would be so encouraging to read a motto that you selected yourself first thing in the morning instead of having someone else's voice command, 'Follow the rules! Be quick to obey!' Mottoes could be collected under countless subject headings, such as lives with a keynote, Bible heroes, Greek heroes, morally inspiring poems, patriotic poems, poems about responsibility or any other virtue, ethics object lessons, where to find mottoes, etc.
Moral habits--that's a subject that's on many of our minds: how to form them, and the responsibility of every parent to send their children into the world with a good collection of them. I don't need to go into that any more here. Once the moral inspiration has been planted using some of the inspiring ideas I've mentioned, the parent or teacher's next job is to keep that moral impulse at the front of the child's mind. This should be done with tact and delicacy, never with insistence. And casual opportunities should be provided to try to put those moral impulses into action. Children need to be constantly aware that it's the kind of thoughts they
think that count. When a child is young enough that the parent can tell what they're thinking by looking at their face, the parent should work to give the child the habit of thinking pleasant thoughts. Every time the child's face betrays a selfish thought, or resentful or unkind thought beginning, his thoughts must be changed before he's aware of it.
One more thing: parents should make it a point to have a clear idea of what kind of virtues they want their children to have. Impartiality, backbone, moderation, patience, humility, courage, generosity--in fact, the whole range of virtues would be an interesting subject for thinking about, teaching and finding illustrative examples. But I'd like to offer a word of caution. A child's whole concept of religion is 'being good.' He needs to know that 'being good' isn't his whole responsibility towards God, although it is a big part of it. A love relationship with God and being of service are also his duty. He owes that to God as a child owes love and service to his father, and as a subject owes it to his King. That's more than just 'being good,' although 'being good' also makes God pleased with His children.
Before I begin, I'd like to clarify that what I'm going to say about religious education is in no way exhaustive. My aim in discussing this topic is to give some practical methods, and I hope my readers won't find that I've left things out or said things that I shouldn't have said.
First, let's consider how the principle of Authority relates to teaching religion. The sense of duty, whether it's been taught or whether the person is ignorant of it, always relates to the person in authority, the one whose place is to say what the rules are. Most of us realize that we who are in authority are representing a higher authority, and ultimately, the Supreme Authority. A child can't have a true, lasting sense of duty until he's brought into contact with that Supreme Authority. He is the source of the law, and pleasing Him turns duty into joy. In our progressive times, perhaps no aspect of religious teaching is more important than the immediate presence and continuous going forth of God.
'You're everywhere I walk, and around my bed, and You see everything I do,' should be a thought that brings comfort, not dread, to every child. This constant awareness of the presence of God's authority will inspire the dual response of submission and reverence towards God. Some people say that the children of our time are distinguished by their defiance, and by a certain flippant attitude and lack of reverence. If this is true, and in proportion to how much it's the case, it's because children are brought up without the conscious realization of their relationship to God, who should be as a Father to them. His divine title of Father reminds us that authority is wrapped up in the One who created us, and He is kind, compassionate, foreknowing, strong enough to care for us, and wise enough to rule. These qualities are reflected only very weakly even in the best human fathers.
But there are questions on everyone's minds about the authenticity of Scripture and things like that. We're all pretty much at the mercy of words. So-called 'higher criticism' finds a lot to criticize and question about the verbal accuracy of Scripture passages, which gives us a vague idea that God's authority itself is in doubt. Part of the PNEU's work is to encourage and strengthen parents by comforting them with a sense that God's authority is behind theirs, always supporting them in their role as authority over their families. Another notion people are talking about is against the principle of authority itself, favoring greater respect for individual personality and the right of each individual to develop and evolve according to his own unique character. But the truth is, authority isn't adverse to
individual development unless it's a morally wrong kind of development.
God's Supreme Authority and all other deputies in roles of authority work in the exact same way that fair, good governments do who make it their job to defend the liberties of their people in every way, even if they have to limit, repress and punish the license of those who interfere with the rights of others and with the real freedom of the criminal. The law, which is the stated form of authority, is for the punishment of evil-doers and for the approval of those who do what's right. When we associate harshness, punishment, force and arbitrary rules with the concept of authority, even divine authority, we exhibit the confusion of thought that most of our faulty actions can be traced to. The truth is, it isn't authority that punishes. The penalties that plague us throughout our lives (of which those in the family are a faint foretaste) are the inevitable natural consequences of laws that are broken, whether those laws are spiritual/moral or physical. Authority, strong and good, is there to save us by preventing us from breaking laws, and, when needed, to use lesser penalties in order to teach us.
I think that reading and teaching about some of the following subjects might help us to get our focus on the vitally important aspect of our relationship to God's authority. It's not a relationship we choose to enter into. It's as inevitable as the family relationships we're born into. The subjects include the obligation to loyalty and the disgrace of unfaithfulness; the duty of being reverent; the responsibility to submit to God's will; incidences in the Bible where God is revealed as the ruler of men such as telling Abraham, 'Go, and he goes,' or to Cyrus, 'Do this, and he does it;' historical revelations that show that God is the ruler of nations and the kind ruler of people and
He makes His servants' ways prosper; how a sense of God's authority can be instilled at home; how reverence for holy things can be imparted; and direct Bible teaching about the principle of authority. This whole subject has a lot of aspects to consider, and suggests rabbit trails that are very important in these days.
The next thing we need to consider is laying down the habits that distinguish a religious life. We don't need to go over the physical evidence for the power that habits have. My purpose right now is to look at how much we can use this power to help develop the religious life of our children. Let's consider how religious habits relate to thought, attitude, life, and words. Those are all actually the same thing because everything we do and say starts in our thoughts, even though we may not be consciously aware of what we're thinking.
The Bible says that the wicked 'don't have God in all their thoughts.' But it might be said that children have God in all of their thoughts: their restful thoughts, their dutiful thoughts, their thoughts of loving and giving and serving, and the abundance of beautiful thoughts that overflow from their hearts. We tend to think that children are a little bit morbid and unusually advanced when they ask questions about God and imagine spiritual things, so we try to distract them and get them to think about something else. What children need is to be guided into thinking true, happy thoughts. Every day should bring them 'new thoughts about God and new hopes about heaven.' They understand spiritual things better than we do because they haven't had to conform their ideas to conventional dogma, and thoughts about God seem to them like a way to escape to the infinite realm, away from the limitations that make them anxious, and from their perception that some of their bitter experiences
can seem like prison bars. We must keep children in the habit of always having God in their thoughts so that losing it, even for a little while, will be like returning home to find that their mother has gone out. This is a very delicate part of a parent's work.
We tend to overlook the importance of reverent attitudes these days. We're extremely sincere and that makes us hesitant to insist on 'mere formality.' We feel that it's best to leave children free to express their own heartfelt emotions naturally. But we might be wrong about this. It's as true that formality can inspire feelings as it is that feelings can result in form. Children should be taught to take the time to be reverent while saying grace before meals, during family prayers, as they pray on their own, and in church when they're old enough to sit through the service. Maybe some of us remember standing beside our mother every day with an attitude of reverence while reciting the Apostles' Creed, and the memory of that childhood reverence set the tone for our attitude towards God all our lives. 'Because the angels will see' should be a thought that keeps children from misbehaving. We're wrong when we assume that forms of reverence are always boring to children. They love little ceremonies. If they were taught to kneel properly while saying their little prayers, it would help to instill a feeling of reverence in their later lives. We can't expect reverent feeling and formalities from children in church if we take them when they're too young, or make them sit through services that are too long, or expect them to pay attention for the whole time. If children are taken to long services, they should be allowed to have a Sunday picture book, and they should be told that the songs and
memorized rituals, such as the Lord's Prayer, are parts of the service that children can participate in.
It's important to develop the habit of regularity in devotional time. A mother may not always be with her children, but I've seen children who are more determined about doing their devotions on time when they're away from their mother because they know that's what she would want, than they are when she's with them. One four-year-old friend of mine said, 'Mommy, I always worship idols.' 'You do, Megan? When?' 'When I say my prayers to the chair.' It's wonderful for all of us to get into the habit of 'saying our prayers' at a specific time and in a specific place. Wherever that may be, it will become like a holy place for us. Whether it's a chair, the side of the bed, a little prayer table, or, best of all, the mother's knee, that place will play a major part in guiding the child's soul to develop a habit of devotion. While I'm on the subject, it's worth mentioning that children's prayers, even for school aged children, shouldn't be left until they're so tired that they nod off before they're finished. After evening tea [or dessert?] is a good regular time for prayers if it can be managed.
The habit of reading the Bible should be established when the child is young enough that his Bible readings need to be read aloud to him. This presents a challenge because the Bible is actually an entire library, and some of its books and passages aren't suitable for children. Many parents get around this by using little compilations of devotional Scriptures. But I'm not sure this is such a good idea. I think that a
narrative teaching of the Scriptures is a lot more helpful for children than the isolated texts chosen to stimulate morals and spiritual devotion. The Bible Society publishes [at least, they did in 1904 when this was written] inexpensive copies of individual books of the Bible. Those are a nice resource for parents. A child who's old enough to enjoy reading for himself would probably love reading through the whole book of the Gospel of Mark or another book of the Bible little by little as part of the morning devotion, using a nice copy of the book.
But, while emphasizing the importance of developing the habits of prayer and devotional reading, we need to remember that children are little formalists by nature. They shouldn't be encouraged to read long passages or pray long prayers with the erroneous idea that there's some inherent benefit in those things [i.e., praying longer prayers doesn't make them a better person].
We probably don't place a high enough priority on the habit of praise in our children's devotions. Praise and thankfulness flow freely from the young hearts of children. It's natural and good to be glad, and music is fun. Singing hymns at home and singing worship songs at church should be something to enjoy. The habit of singing soft, reverent songs and offering our very best when we praise should be deliberately formed. The best hymns for children are probably the ones that tell a story, such as 'A Little Ship Was on the Sea,' 'I Think When I Read That Sweet Story of Old,' and 'Hushed Was the Evening Hymn.' Children should be trained to pay attention and have an attitude of sincere devotion during short services, or during parts of the service. Instructing children to find their places in the prayer book and Bible during the service helps them to pay attention to what's going on during the service, but it might be better to have children even as old as 10 and 11 occupy themselves during
the prayer or sermon by going over the hymns they know silently in their minds.
The habit of keeping Sunday observances that are special and reverent without being severe or dull is very important. Special Sunday stories, Sunday songs, Sunday walks, Sunday conversations, Sunday painting, Sunday knitting, even Sunday card games, should all be suitable for the Sabbath--quiet, enjoyable, peaceful. The people who want to make Sunday like any other day don't realize how healing the change of pace of a weekly rest can bring to a weary soul. One of the most precious inheritances we can hand down is the traditional English Sunday, especially if we can hand it down without its strictness but still retain its quiet joy and communion with Nature and God. But I can't pursue this subject any further. The topic of religious habits provides lots of subjects that will be beneficial to teach and reflect on. For example, there's the habit of thinking about God as a family, the habit of having reverent thoughts, attitudes, actions, and words, the habit of praying about certain things at a certain time and in the same way or the same place, the habit of praise and thanksgiving, the habit of an attentive and devotional attitude during church services, things that can help devotional habits, and the habit of devotional reading.
Now we come to the most important aspect of our subject--the inspiring ideas we'd like to give children about the things in a life devoted to God. We sometimes tend to leave this to chance. But when we consider how vitalizing an idea can be, and how one single idea can change the course of a whole life, we realize how important it is to carefully consider which ideas of
spiritual things are the most suitable for children, and how they can best be presented to seem inviting. It's sad that so many children's first concept of God as toddlers is of a Being who's always watching for them to be naughty so He can punish them. We may never know how much this kind of concept can alienate children's hearts. Another danger is that spiritual things can be made too familiar and worn out until the name of God is used without reverence. Or, children might get the notion that God's blessed name exists to serve them and what they can get from God, instead of them existing to serve God.
Perhaps the best concept to introduce children to first is that God is a kind Father and they live and move and exist within His divine loving arms. If children are allowed to grow up with this joyful assurance, then being unfaithful to this, the closest of all relationships, would be as shameful to them as it was to the Church during the medieval era.
The next concept, the kingship of Christ, will inspire them to do the right thing and will rouse children's eager loyalty, since we all know that children naturally bestow heroic devotion on anyone they find who's heroic. Perhaps we don't take advantage of this human tendency of hero-worship as much as we could in teaching religion. We tend to make our religious goals subjective [focused on what it will do for me] instead of objective [focused on God]. We're tempted to think of Christianity as a 'plan of salvation' designed and carried out for our individual benefit. But the very essence of Christianity is passionate devotion to a Person who's worthy of adoration.
Even when we recognize this, we can still fall into the trap of adopting a rose-water kind of treatment with children. Unfortunately for us, very few adults have as keen a sense of sin as a child of six or seven who has done something wrong. Many naughty, angry, sulky and hardened young offenders are that way simply because they don't have a personal understanding that there's a Savior of this world who has immediate forgiveness and ready love for them. But even in this respect, children's thoughts need to be focused outside of themselves, on Jesus the Savior, rather than their own personal feelings about the Savior.
I have space to mention one more obvious Christian truth. Most Christian parents teach their children to recognize the indwelling of the Holy Spirit, the Comforter. They elaborate on the concept expressed in this poem:
'Enable with Your constant light
The dullness of our blinded sight.'
'Anoint and cheer our dirty face
With the abundance of Your grace.'
It would be good if we could prevent our children from having the concept that there's some kind of a separation between sacred things and so-called secular things. We should help them to recognize that all 'sound learning,' even if it isn't designated as 'religious instruction,' comes under the jurisdiction of God, the Holy Sprit, who is the supreme teacher of all mankind.
Parents and teachers will be able to think of lots of other inspiring ideas that are more valuable than any I could suggest--for instance, teaching, reading and meditating on any of the sections of the Lord's Prayer or the Apostles'
Creed, or any of the Duties Towards God in the [Anglican] Catechism. Anyone who accepts the Old and New Testaments should find that worthwhile.
I haven't mentioned everything that's necessary to bring up children 'in the nurture and admonition of the Lord,' but I've discussed a few of the principles that seem essential to me, although I've done it very inadequately.
This chapter appears in a Parents' Review article.
Some of you already know the Parents' Union motto: 'Education is an atmosphere, a discipline, a life,' because there's a neat diagram of it on the covers of our library books. They say that a society is destined to live by its motto. One respected educationalist wrote this to me about public education: 'Now, more than ever, we need the kind of educational perspective that's expressed in the memorable words of the Parents' Review motto.' An inspiring motto always has power, but living upon our motto's good reputation, and living up to it, and in it are two different things. I believe that the Parents' Union has a lot of continual thinking and challenging living ahead if it wants to interpret and illustrate those 'memorable words' to the world. Fortunately, we're a courageous bunch. We have some determined intentions, and we're passionate about them. Those who set a goal with the best determination, and who expend effort for the best, will see the best as a result.
Meanwhile, we sometimes make mistakes by taking one part and acting as if it were the whole, and sometimes even by focusing on a small part of a part
and mistaking that for the whole. Of the three phrases in the motto, the first, 'education is an atmosphere,' tends to be our favorite because it's the most inviting for the permissive non-intervening part of our human nature. And we lose something by thinking that 'atmosphere' is the same as 'environment,' and thinking that the word itself holds some kind of magic key. The word 'atmosphere' is symbolic, but a symbol means more to us than the word that's used. When we think of everything surrounding the child as 'atmosphere,' then our considerations will expand even to the air a child breathes, to make sure it's fresh, clean and invigorating, and that the child breathes it in deeply and correctly. If we use the more literal word, 'environment,' our concept will be more limited.
But when we think of an education as an atmosphere, we get a fresh, dynamic concept in our minds. If we imagine that it means sunshine, green fields, pleasant rooms, good pictures, gentle inspiration used to get children to learn their lessons, eliminating everything that we feel isn't needed, charming, smiling teachers mesmerizing the children into complying to be like everyone else, then it's easy for us to sit back, satisfied that everything is going great and all of education is being accomplished. But it's not. Although it's true that we can't live without air, it's just as true that we can't live on air alone. Children raised on the concept of 'environment' soon start showing signs of laziness. They have very little curiosity, if they have any at all, no ability to focus their attention or their effort, and, worst of all, they lose their spontaneity and
initiative. They expect life to come and drop itself into them like raindrops dripping into a tub, without any effort or intention on their part.
The notion that education is covered by environment, or maybe even by atmosphere, has been popular for the past generation or two, and it seems to have left its mark on our public and private lives. We're more interested in having things done for us than in doing things for others. We're not interested in directing our own lives one way or the other, we'd rather have our lives managed for us. A schedule of appointments and events dictates what to do now, and what to do next. We crave exciting entertainment, like parades and thrilling movies. Even Shakespeare plays have become such spectacular displays that Shakespeare's dialogues are lost in the show. There's nothing intrinsically wrong with these things, but our desire to escape from boredom reflects our one-sided view of education--the view that education is all about atmosphere.
An even more consuming fatigue set in at the end of the 1700's, and that was also the result of focusing on a part instead of the whole of education. 'Education is a life' was the formula then, although not consciously. The result was an obsessive chasing after ideas. It's pathetic to read about Madame de Stael and her crowd, or the cultured group who met at the fashionable court of Hotel Rambouillet, and stayed up late because they couldn't sleep. They spent long nights making up character sketches of each other, brain teasers, word puzzles, and other
useless intellectual games. Then some of them would meet early for breakfast to compose and sing little songs fashioned after specific themes. That might bore us as much as it bored them. We might err by focusing too much on one thing as they did, but at least we have less stress because we aren't always restlessly pursuing interesting notions. But their experience can be a lesson for us at the beginning of the 1900's. Their mistake was that they didn't understand the concept of proportion. We tend to focus on education as atmosphere; they focused on education as ideas. But the truth includes both of these as well as a third aspect of education.
The third part of the motto, 'Education is a discipline,' has always had its supporters, and it still does. Everyone recognizes that disciplined moral and intellectual habits make up an important third of education. But we go too far if we imagine that certain qualities of character and behavior can be produced like factory-spun thread if we use some educational system, or math, or science or athletics. In other words, it's excessive when the notion of developing supposed 'faculties' displaces the physical fact of how intellectual habits are formed. The difference between the two may seem small, but two streams that originate a foot apart from the same mountain can end up watering two entirely different countries. Two educational concepts may seem similar, but in practice, they often branch off in totally different directions. Plutarch's father
made him study Homer to give him heroic ideas of life. If young Plutarch had merely been forced to learn Homer as a part of the classical grind for the purpose of 'developing faculties,' he would have been turned into a stuffy scholar instead of a man who was in touch with life in many different aspects who was able to analyze men's affairs with his reasonable, charitable mind. I think that the attempt to use discipline to develop the 'faculties' tends to produce one-sided people--limited, as people always are who develop abnormally. An artist told me recently that success as an artist requires total absorption with art. A painter has to think pictures, paint pictures, nothing but pictures. But when art was great, men weren't just artists. The Flemish painter Quentin Matsys also worked with wrought iron and did other things, too. Michelangelo wrote sonnets, designed buildings, and painted. Marble sculpture wasn't his only way of expressing himself. Leonardo Da Vinci wrote systematic discourses, designed canals, played musical instruments, and did a hundred things, all excellently. But then, the concept of isolating and training separate 'faculties' hadn't occurred to these great men or their teachers.
Now that we're clear and sure that education doesn't have just one face, we can move on and consider how 'education is a life' without getting caught up in thinking that it's all there is to education.
Jesus said, 'Man does not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God.' The importance of the occasion when He spoke those words has tended to make us think that the words are limited
to what we call the life of the soul. But actually, they include a great educational principle that the Medieval Church understood better than we do. I'd like to describe again a painting that so visibly expresses our educational creed. You may be familiar with the frescoes on the walls of the Spanish Chapel in the Church of S. Maria Novella in Florence, Italy. Middle Age philosophy dealt with theology as its subject matter. There's a lot of religious culture of that time that we don't relate to on some of the walls, but on one specific part of the wall and roof, we have a uniquely satisfying illustration of educational thought. At the top of the picture, we see the Holy Spirit descending in the form of a dove. Immediately below in the upper part are the disciples who first received the Spirit's inspiration. Under them is a random crowd of various nationalities who were brought indirectly under the influence of that first outpouring of the Spirit, including a couple of dogs to illustrate that even the animals benefited from this new grace. In the lower part, we see the angelic figures who represent the cardinal virtues, which we all agree are divinely inspired. They are floating above the seated apostles and prophets, who Scripture says 'spoke as they were moved by the Holy Spirit.' So far, this Medieval concept of philosophy reveals nothing new to those of us familiar with the elements of Christian truth. But below them are 28 people--those on the right at the top are the captain figures, or idealized
representations of the seven Liberal Arts. They are graceful and beautiful and represent the familiar subjects of grammar, rhetoric, logic, music, astronomy, geometry, and arithmetic, all under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. Medieval philosophy manifests itself as even more liberal when we see that, directly at the feet of each of these idealized figures is the person they considered to be the leader and representative of that particular science: Priscian, Cicero, Aristotle, Tubal Cain, Zoroaster, Euclid, and Pythagoras. Later, a narrower view of religion would place these men outside the barrier of Christianity, inferring that their teaching was outside of God's spirit and thus secular. But in this picture, they're all shown receiving the same divine outpouring as the disciples near the top.
We naturally crave unity. Current thinking, as thinking has done for as long as we can tell, seeks to establish some kind of principle that will unify life. In this fresco we have a magnificent plan of unity. We tend to think of spiritual holiness as one thing, and intellectual and artistic yearnings as something totally separate, and moral virtues as something we pick up from our environment and by inheritance. We don't consider them as something related to our conscious religion. That's why we often have so much discord in our lives, especially young, devoted people who want to be pure and holy but who can't escape from the overpowering draw of art, intellect and pure physical enjoyment. But they've been taught that these things are worldly and alien to a religious life and they need to choose one or other. So they make a choice, and their choice isn't
always what those who are nonscripturally and unphilosophically narrow-minded would consider a godly choice. We should be thankful for Taddeo Gaddi and Simone Memmi [for painting the fresco, although the fresco is now attributed to Andrea da Firenze] because they gave us a creed that shows that our devotion, virtue, intellect and even our physical beauty come from the same source--God Himself. They're all inspired by the same source--God's Holy Spirit. (Copies of the fresco could be purchased to hang on our walls from 'La Discessa dello Spirito Santo' and Allegoria filosofica della Religione Cattolica' in care of Mr. G. Cole, 1 Via Torna Buoni, Florence; shilling size, numbers 4077 and 4093.) The generations that were brought up in this creed were productive in all kinds of areas. Venice's noble industry was more dignified and sobered because of this concept that all ideas were inspired by God--trade, justice, fair weights and measures, and practical use. Coleridge writes that Columbus, informed by the divine idea, ventured out to discover a new world. Coleridge adds that 'great inventions and ideas about nature were given to men who were selected by a divine power even higher than nature herself. These ideas suddenly unfold in a prophetic kind of succession, these systematic views were destined to produce the most important revolutions in the state of man.' When Columbus returned after discovering a new world, the people and rulers assumed his discovery was a gift from God and sang praises to God.
Michelangelo wrote to his friend Vittoria Colonna that 'good Christians always create good, beautiful figures. In making a representation of our adored Lord, it isn't enough for the artist to be a great skilled master. I believe that he must also be a moral, righteous man, possibly a saint, so that the Holy
Spirit will give him inspiration.' The truth is, only one diet affords what men and nations need to become great. And that diet is a diet of great ideas passed on by a power even higher than Nature itself to people who have prepared themselves to receive them.
I think that the PNEU has the leaven that can leaven the whole lump of dough. Let's determine to work with a purpose and passion. Let's restore to the world that great scheme of unity in life that produced such great men and great works in the past, and let's enrich that with current knowledge. We don't need to be afraid that the kinds of ideas that will help education will oppose science. Many of us feel, for good reason, that science is the new teaching that's being emphasized in our age. That makes some people very happy. They see it as a sign that moral and religious struggles are about to be eliminated from life, and then life, for better or worse, will run along an easy inevitable path. Others are confused and are desperately looking for a middle ground where science and religion can be reconciled. Still others take refuge by rejecting the theory of evolution and all that goes with it. They hope to cling to religion by interpreting it more and more narrowly. Whichever group we fall into, we probably err by not having enough faith.
First of all, let's be convinced that, for a believer, science and religion can't possibly be at odds. Once we're assured of this, we might be able to see scientific evolution as a process of
revelation that's brought about in every case as far as I know by a process described by Coleridge: 'Ideas about nature were given to men who were selected by a divine power even higher than nature herself. These ideas suddenly unfold in a prophetic kind of succession, these systematic views were destined to produce the most important revolutions in the state of man.' Huxley says that biology is useful because it 'helps to give the right ideas in this world. After all, this world is absolutely governed by ideas--and very often, by the wildest and most hypothetical ideas.' He goes on, 'people who refuse to go beyond the fact rarely get as far as the fact. Anyone who knows the history of science knows that almost every advance has been made by the anticipation of nature--in other words, by the invention of hypothesis.' Surely men of science will find the unifying principle they seek that Coleridge spoke of. If they did, then they would be able to distinguish themselves, not just as the proclaimers of truth that they're ready to take a stand for, but as servants of God who prepared themselves to receive revelation from God, who is the Truth.
Few of us can forget the mental image that Carlyle described of the Tiers etat [one of the branches of Parliament; the French nobles refused to treat their concerns seriously and this was a cause of the French Revolution of 1789] waiting for organization. 'Wise as serpents, harmless as doves. What a spectacle for France! Six hundred inhuman people who are needed to bring it back to life and save it, sit on their long benches, desperately wishing for life.' Coleridge wrote just as accurately about botany, although not as vividly. He said that botany, as it existed in his day, was waiting for a unifying
idea that would organize it. He wrote, 'What is Botany right now? Not much more than an enormous collection of names, a huge catalog, meticulously arranged. Every year and every month, more names are added in various categories, and each has its own filing method and reference system. It's the innocent diversion, healthy hobby and impressive collection of amateurs. Botany still doesn't have the kind of energy and devotion that true philosophers would give it.' Our generation has been given the key word to interpret life, both animal and plant, but we don't know what to do with it.
The human mind finds a great deal of rest and satisfaction in the concept of evolution. But we shouldn't forget that, for three thousand years, thinkers have been busy trying to explain the world with a single principle that would also explain Reason and the human soul. Herakleitos and the men of his time thought that they had found the answer when they said that 'the true Being is forever changing.' They thought that 'the universal change and evolving of things' explained it perfectly. Demokritos and the men of his age thought they had solved the riddle when they said, 'nothing exists except atoms moving around in space.' Many times since then, with each world-changing discovery, science has declared, 'I've solved the mystery!' when it's found a principle that seems to explain all things and eliminate the existence of personality.
A little familiarity with history and philosophy will make us stop and think. We'll recognize that each new discovery that has given the world a clearer concept of how nature works is like a lake that appears to be
at its end, but as soon as your boat gets close enough, it proves to be deceptive--it's really just an opening to a part of the lake that goes even farther on! And knowledge from God is something like that. It does more than give us the broader perspective that we get from knowing history. Knowing about history teaches us that there's a 'stream of tendency,' as Wordsworth puts it. There's an impersonal stream of force that can't be measured, and it's shaping people and events. But beyond that, there's also the variable force of Individual Personality that has the ability to turn the 'stream of tendency' for its own purposes, although Personality is just as likely to be swept away in its current.
It may seem like I'm dwelling on a topic that has little to do with raising and teaching children. But I think that a vital part of a parent's preparation is his own attitude about the concept of evolution and age-appropriate lessons to teach it. If parents brush off the driving ideas that move the age they live in, then they can hardly expect to maintain influence over their children's minds. If they're afraid and suspicious of new scientific revelations, then they'll plant a seed of distrust and conflict in their children. On the other hand, if they rush in like a zealous novice and proclaim the newest scientific revelation as the final answer that explains everything about human nature and even makes God unnecessary, unknowable or distant and negligent, then they risk lowering the level of their children's lives to the mere struggle for existence that we hear so much about these days. Such a life has no reason to hope, set goals, set oneself apart for God, or make sacrifices. But parents need to recognize that every great concept in nature is like a new page of God's revelation to people who are ready for the information. They need to realize that a newly discovered scientific concept, no matter how far-reaching and comprehensive it seems, is not final or conclusive.
New ideas shouldn't be assumed to be in opposition against the personal knowledge of God, which is the greatest knowledge of all. If parents have this mindset, then their children will grow up with an attitude of respect for science, reverence for God, and an open mind that's appropriate for people whose lives are so short and who never get to the point where they've learned everything there is to know. That's enough about the diet of ideas that are being served to the world at this time of history.
Maybe we include poetry, or art, or philosophy, who knows what else, but we need to make sure of two things. We need to make sure that we, as well as our children, stay in touch with the great thoughts that educated the world in the past, and we need to maintain the right attitude in ourselves and our children about the great ideas of our own age. It's tempting to focus education on our personal favorite topics so that we lose sight of the fact that education is a world concern. The important lessons of the ages have already been determined. Each generation needs to be concerned about the ideas of its own age, as well as the ideas from all of the generations before it. After all, nobody feels like they've mastered a book when all they've read is the last page. And this brings me to the point that I'm anxious to share with you.
We don't recognize how important the need is for the principle of unity in education. We don't have one major 'Captain' idea that can make it clear which of the many educational ideas floating around will suit our purposes. Since we don't have any guiding principle to give us some focus, we feel like we can pick and choose whatever strikes our fancy. One person thinks science should be all the education his son gets. Another likes the classics. A third prefers an education in mechanics. A fourth thinks that a specialized technical education is a good idea, and a fifth who's obsessed with physical health chooses a school that makes nutrition and exercise the bulk
of its program. (I don't mean to imply that we should neglect health, but as long as general conditions are healthful, then it's best for children not to focus much attention on their personal health.) Everyone thinks he's free to do whatever seems right in his own eyes when it comes to his children's education.
I'd like to discourage this kind of educational faddism as strongly as I can. It's wrong to accept a one-sided concept as an educational guide instead of a universal idea. Instead, I'd like to constantly present, in season and out of season, one of these universal ideas: the idea that education is the science of relationships.
A child should be brought up to have enthusiastic relationships with earth and water. He should run, ride, swim, skate, lift and carry. He should be familiar with different textures and know how to work with different materials. He should know the names of everything on the earth around him--the birds, animals, insects, plants and trees, and he should know where to find them in their natural habitat. He should be familiar with literature, art, and the thoughts of the past and the present. I don't mean that he should know all of these things. But when he reads a newspaper article about the discovery of ancient frescoes from the palace of King Minos in Crete, he should feel the same thrill that the Cretan peasants felt when they were digging their gardens and their shovels uncovered the frescoes. He shouldn't be thrilled just because of the proximity of Crete to England, but because he has a living, active relationship with the past. Blood may be thicker than water, but thought makes a person more alive than blood. The child also needs to have a living relationship with his own current era, and have a sense of where it's going in historical movement, science, art, social issues and
ideals. He needs to have a broad perspective, intimate relationships with things all around him, and he should display a strong sense of virtue in what he does, determines, sympathizes with, and relates to. This isn't an impossible goal. In fact, it can be pretty much accomplished in any intelligent child by age thirteen or fourteen because it doesn't depend on how much is learned, but on how things are learned.
Children should be given a wide range of subjects with the goal of establishing at least one of the relationships I mentioned in each subject. They should learn from first-hand sources--really good books, the best ones available in each subject they're studying. They should get at the books for themselves. They shouldn't have to listen to a flood of diluting talk from their teacher. The teacher's job is to point things out, stimulate interest, give guidance and provide limits in order to help the child as he acquires knowledge. But in no way is the teacher supposed to be the wellspring and source of all knowledge herself. The less parents and teachers interpret for the child and lecture from their own personal supply of information and opinions, the better for the child. Pre-digested food fed to a healthy person doesn't help to strengthen the digestion. Children must be allowed to reflect for themselves and sort things out in their own minds. If they need help, they'll ask for it.
With this 'Captain' Idea of Establishing Relationships as our guide, it's easy to see how unwise it is to choose one subject or reject that subject because we deem it more beneficial or less necessary to a child's future. For example, we might decide that eight-year-old Thomas doesn't need to waste his time studying Latin
Grammar. We plan to give him a marketable skill or scientific background; what good will Latin be towards that? But we don't realize that we're depriving Thomas of more than a Latin Grammar textbook. Thomas has to translate something like, 'Pueri formosos equos vident.' ['The boys see a beautiful horse.'] Thomas, being human, is a reflective being. He's heard something about the strong Romans whose language he's now learning about. Roman boys catch his interest. And he wishes he had one of their horses! The Latin Grammar isn't just dull words to Thomas. At any rate, Thomas knows better than we do that 'dull' doesn't apply to words! I know that it's only every now and then that a notion grasps the attention of young boys, but when it happens, it works wonders and does more for his education than years and years of the daily grind of textbooks and lectures.
Let's try, however imperfectly, to make education a science of relationships. In other words, in one or more subjects, let's try to let children work with living ideas. When it comes to education, even small efforts are honored with great rewards. We believe that the kind of education we're giving exceeds everything we intended or imagined.
This chapter appears in a Parents Review article.
'School books' isn't a new topic, and everything I'm going to say here is what I've already written in other volumes. But we aren't like the men of Athens who got together regularly because they wanted to hear or share something exciting and new. I'm sure you won't mind hearing the same thing again.
In Frederika Bremer's 1837 novel, The Neighbors, she writes with some spirit about an incident that happened to some school girls. It may be a bit autobiographical. This segment taken from the book is long, but I think it will be appreciated. It illustrates my point better than any simple arguments I could make.
The heroine says, 'I was sixteen at the time. Fortunately, since I had a restless character, my right
shoulder started to stick out. Gymnastics were the popular way to treat all kinds of physical defects, so my parents decided to let me try gymnastics. I was clothed in pantaloons with colored trim, a green Bonjour coat, and a little bonnet with a pink ribbon. When I first showed up, there was a group of thirty to forty other girls wearing the same outfit I had on. They were happily swarming all over a large public room, over ropes, ladders and poles. It was a strange, new thing for me to see. I stayed in the background the first day, and my governess taught me how to do a backbend and some arm and leg exercises. The second day, I made friends with some of the girls. The third day, I matched them on the ropes and ladders, and by the second week, I was the leader of the second class and was encouraging the others to try all kinds of new tricks.
'At that time, I was studying Greek history in my school lessons. Even during gymnastics, my imagination was filled with Greek heroes and their heroic deeds. So I suggested to my group that we should take on ancient Greek men's names and that we should refuse to answer to any other name during gymnastics. We took on such names as Agamemnon and Epaminondas. I chose the name Orestes, and I called my best friend in the class Pylades. There was a tall, thin girl with a Finnish accent that I didn't like, mostly because of her disrespect for me and my ideas, and she didn't care who knew it . . . this resulted in some quarrels.
'I loved Greek history, but I also loved Swedish history. I idolized Charles XII, and I often entertained the other girls with stories about his deeds until my own soul
was glowing with enthusiasm. Like a bucket of cold water, Darius (the tall girl whose real name was Britsa) came into the midst of us one day and asserted that Czar Peter I was a much greater man than Charles XII. I reacted to her challenge with blind zeal and concealed rage. She stated her case, bringing forth various arguments with coolness and skill to support her opinion. When I refuted her arguments and thought I had won the victory and proved my hero the better man, she kept throwing Bender and Pultawa in my way. [Charles XII of Sweden and Czar Peter were enemies in the Great Northern War of the early 1700's. Charles lost a battle at Pultawa/Poltava, in the Ukraine, and fled to Bender, in the Ottoman Empire. That loss marked the end of the Swedish Empire, and the rise of Peter's Russia.] Oh, Pultawa! Pultawa! Many tears have been shed over your bloody battlefield, but none were more bitter than the ones I shed later in secret because, just like Charles XII, it proved to be my defeat, too. She kept adding fuel until I finally cried out, 'I demand satisfaction!' Darius only laughed and said, 'Bravo! Bravo!' I exclaimed, 'You have insulted me disgracefully. I request that you apologize in front of the class and acknowledge that Charles XII is a better man than Czar Peter I, or else I'll fight you, unless you're a coward who has no honor!' Britsa Kaijsa blushed, but she said with detestable coolness, 'Apologize? I think not. I wouldn't dream of it. You want to fight? Fine, I have no objection. Where shall we fight, and with what? With pins?' 'With swords, if you're not afraid, and right here. We can meet here half an hour before everyone else gets here. I'll bring the swords. Pylades will be my second, and you can choose your own second.' . . . So, the next morning, I entered the large, open room and found my enemy already there with her second. Darius and I saluted one another proudly
and coolly. I let her have first choice of the swords. She took one and flourished it around with some skill, as if she was used to handling one. I began to have visions of myself in my imagination with a sword in my heart . . . Darius cried out, 'Czar Peter was a great man!' 'Down with him! Long live Charles XII!' I cried, bursting into a furious rage. I positioned myself in an attitude of defense, and so did Darius . . . our swords clashed one against the other. The next moment, I was disarmed and thrown on the ground. Darius stood over me, and I thought my last hour had arrived. But I was surprised when my enemy threw down her sword, grabbed my hand to help me up, and cheerfully said, 'Okay, now you've had satisfaction. Let's be good friends again. You're one brave person!' Just at that moment, a tremendous noise was heard at the door, and the fencing instructor and three other teachers rushed in. At that point, I passed out.'
I hope none of you are like naughty children who enjoy the thrill of the story but miss the moral. What follows is actually the moral of this fascinating tale.
What was it in their school lessons that so excited these Swedish girls? There is no hint that their zeal came from anything but school reading. It could only have come from their books. Oral lessons for young children and class lectures for older students hadn't been invented in the early 1700's. We use books in our school rooms, too--but we never hear this kind of wild enthusiasm and uncontrolled passion over events recorded in history books, or dry
facts in science textbooks. Those Swedish girls must have used a different kind of book, and it's in our best interest to find out what kind. It would be hard to find records of them, so we'll have to look for clues from the girls themselves. We can't go to them and ask directly, but if we can figure out what they were, we'd be able to make a pretty good guess at what fired their souls.
All we can tell from the story is that they were intelligent girls who were probably raised by intelligent parents. But that's enough for our purposes. The next question is, What kind of book will work its way into the mind of an intelligent child with enough force to change the child's thinking? We don't need to ask what the child likes--girls often like twaddly goody-goody stories, and boys tend to enjoy thrilling tales of adventure. We're all capable of being drawn to mental junk food of a poor quality because it's stimulating and exciting. This kind of mental candy is fine when our brains need the rest of an arm chair, but our spiritual minds need a more sustaining diet, whether we're boys or girls or grown-ups. When I say spiritual, I mean our souls as opposed to our physical bodies. We could just as easily use a phrase like thought-life, or the part of us that feels, or the life of the soul.
It's interesting how every question, no matter how superficial it seems, leads us to foundational principles. Even the simple question, What kind of school books should our children use? leads us right to one of the two main principles that are foundational to educational thought.
I think
that spiritual life, in the sense I just mentioned, is only maintained on one kind of diet--a diet of ideas. Ideas are the living fruit of living minds. If we ask any publisher for a catalog of their school books, we'll find that the general nature of school books is that they're drained dry of any living thought. It may have some thinker's name on it, but then it's usually an abridgment of an abridged edition. All that's left for the unfortunate student is the bare dusty bones of the subject with all the warm flesh, living color, breath of life and movement sanitized away. Nothing is left except what Oliver Wendell Holmes calls, 'the mere brute fact.'
It can't be said too often that information isn't the same as education. A student might answer an exam question correctly about the location of the Seychelles and the Comoto Islands without ever being nourished by the fact that they lay in a specific longitude and latitude--those are merely dry facts. But if he could follow whaler Frank Bullen in The Cruise of the Cachelot, then the mere names of the islands would excite the little mental receptors, showing that real knowledge has taken place.
Intelligent teachers know how dry and dull text-books are, so they resort to oral lessons that are designed not to be 'bookish.' But living ideas can only come from living minds. Occasionally a vital spark is flashed from the teacher to the student. But this only happens when the subject is one that the teacher has personally given some original thought to. In most cases, the oral lesson, or, with older students, the more advanced lecture, consists of information that the teacher picked up from various books, and that information is relayed to the student in language that's a bit academic, or rather
common, or dumbed down. Even a gifted teacher isn't likely to have a living interest and, therefore, original thought, about a wide variety of subjects.
We want to place the children in front of open doors that lead to lots of different fields of learning and delight, and every one should offer the child some fresh, invigorating thoughts. We can't expect schools to have a staff of a dozen master-minded geniuses. Even if they did, and students were taught by all of them, it would be to their disadvantage. What the student needs from his teachers is moral and mental discipline, encouragement, and direction. All in all, it's better for the student if his training is managed by one wise teacher instead of being passed from one teacher to another for different subjects.
Now we begin to realize what it is that we need. Children require so much from us. We owe it to them to spark their interest in a lot of different things. 'You have set me in a wide, spacious place' should be the delighted expression of every intelligent soul. Life should be full of living. It shouldn't be spent merely passing time doing tedious activities. I don't mean that life should be nothing but doing, or nothing but feeling, or nothing but thinking. That would be too intense. When I say that life should be full of living, I mean that we should be in touch and able to relate with some genuine interest no matter where we are, what we hear, or what we see. This kind of interest isn't something we give to children. In fact, we'd prefer that children never say that they've learned botany or chemistry or conchology or geology or astronomy, or whatever. The question isn't how much a student knows after he's completed his education, but how much he cares, and how many categories
of things he cares about. How wide and spacious is the place he's been set in? And, so, how full is the life he has in his future? It's true that you can bring a horse to water but you can't make him drink. The problem is that we're not even bringing the 'horse' to water. We give him pathetic little text-books that are nothing but outlines of dry facts, and the student is supposed to memorize them and spit them back out when it's exam time. Or else we give him assorted facts that have been diluted in talks prepared by his teacher that might still have a spark or two of living thought hiding somewhere in the mixture. And yet, all this time, we have a treasure of books that are swarming with ideas fresh from the minds of brilliant thinkers in every subject we'd want to expose children to.
The truth is, we don't appreciate children. We've heard the concept so often lately that an infant is nothing but a huge oyster who gradually develops into a wonderful, moral intellectual adult, that we've come to think that the only food that's appropriate for children's 'little minds' is intellectual spoon-feedings. It means nothing to us that William Morris read his first Waverley novel when he was only four years old, and he finished the entire series by the time he was seven. It didn't do him any harm--in fact, he lived and prospered, unlike John Evelyn's son Richard, who died three days after his fifth birthday, which makes us wonder when we read that he 'had a passion for Greek, could translate English into Latin and Latin into English easily. He had a natural talent for mathematics and knew different propositions of Euclid by heart.' I'm citing young
Richard (one could hardly call such an experienced child Little Ritchie!) as a warning, not an example to aspire to.
[Thomas Babington] Macaulay seems to have started life as a great reader. There's a cute story about how Hannah More paid a visit to his parents when he was four years old. He came forward with the most charming hospitality and said, 'if you'll be good enough to come in, I'll bring you a glass of spirits.' He explained afterwards that 'Robinson Crusoe often had some!'
We can dismiss these children as exceptionally gifted. But I mention them to remind us that our grandparents recognized that children were reasonable beings, people who had minds and consciences like they did, but who needed their guidance and control since they didn't yet have knowledge or experience. Look at the strange antique children's books that have been passed down to us. They treated children, first and foremost, as reasonable, intelligent and responsible people. This is what distinguished family life in previous generations. As soon as the baby was aware of his surroundings, he was expected to be morally and intellectually responsible.
Children haven't changed. They're still the same as they were then--more acutely intelligent, more keenly logical, more alert to observe, quicker in moral sensitivity, more abounding in love and faith and hope--in fact, they're just like us in every way, only more so. Yet they're totally ignorant of the world and what's in it, and of us and the way we are, and, most of all, how to manage and channel and express the limitless possibilities that they're born with.
We know that the brain is where habit originates, and that
behavior and character are both the result of whatever habits we develop. We also know that an inspiring idea sparks a new habit of thought, and, therefore, a new habit of life. We recognize that education's great work is to inspire children with enlivening ideas in every area of life, every category of knowledge, every subject we think about, and to deliberately help children to develop the habits of good living that come from inspiring ideas. In attempting this important task, we seek and have the promise of receiving the help of God's Spirit. We recognize His Spirit in a sense that's new to our modern way of thinking--we recognize Him as the Supreme Educator, teaching humans things that men have labeled as secular, as much as He teaches them things that are considered religious.
Now that we've clarified our goal, we begin to ask ourselves, 'Is there a productive idea behind each of the subjects that our students are studying?' We no longer believe that 'developing the faculties' is the most important part of education. If any subject doesn't originate from some great thought in life, we perceive it as unhealthy and unproductive, and we reject it. But we keep the subjects that encourage habits of clear, orderly thinking. Math, grammar, logic, etc. aren't purely disciplinary. They do help develop intellectual 'muscle.' We don't advocate getting rid of the traditional subjects of education for school lessons, but we value them for different reasons. We no longer believe that their worth is in developing specific 'faculties.' We appreciate them even more because we know that they leave real physical impressions on the brain tissue.
If we'd quit thinking of ourselves as assorted 'faculties' and instead recognize that we're individuals whose job is to get in touch with all kinds of other people in varying circumstances, from all countries, climate and times, then we'd have a great educational revolution.
History would seem fascinating. Literature would be like a magic mirror helping us to discover other minds. Studying sociology would be a duty that we'd delight in. We'd become responsive, wise, humble and reverent, and we'd recognize the responsibilities and true joy that make up a full human life. It's too ambitious to think we can achieve that kind of curriculum, but we can keep it in view. Even that will help since every human life is shaped after whatever the person idealizes.
Although summaries of its moral teachings can be valuable, it's the Bible itself that we need, because it's the great storehouse of moral examples. Here's a quote from De Quincey about this:
'Among all of the vast collection of books in our room when I was little, there was a Bible, illustrated with lots of pictures. During long, dark evenings, my three sisters and I would sit by the fire, and this was the book we would request most often. It had a power to move us that was as mysterious as music. We all loved our young governess. Sometimes she would try to explain the parts that confused us, although she was no expert. We children would be touched with a pensive moodiness. The restless gloom and sudden radiance of the room caused by the flickering fire perfectly matched our evening feelings. They also suited the divine relations of God's power and mysterious beauty that awed us so much. Most of all, the story of Jesus, the just man who was man and yet not man, but more real than anything else, and yet more shadowy and obscure than anything else, who suffered an intense death in Palestine, brooded over our minds like a morning mist broods over a pond. Our governess understood and explained the main differences in the climate to the east. As it happens, all of the differences
express themselves in varying relation to the great wonders and powers of summer. The cloudless sunlights in Syria seemed to indicate that it was summertime. The disciples picking corn must also have been in the summer. The very name Palm Sunday, which is a festival in the English Church, troubled me like an anthem.'
I can't resist from quoting De Quincy again as he beautifully describes the effect that our liturgy had on him when he was a child. 'On Sunday mornings, I went to church with the rest of family. The church was modelled after the ancient churches in England. It had aisles, galleries, an organ, all old, sacred things, and everything had majestic proportions. The congregation would kneel during the long liturgical prayer. When we came to the passage where God is asked to help on behalf of 'all sick people and young children,' which is just one of many prayers that are loved for their beauty, I would weep secretly. Then I would raise my tear-filled eyes and look at the upper windows of the gallery. On sunny days, I'd see a beautiful sight that was as inspiring as anything that the prophets ever saw. The sides of the windows were ornamented with lots of stained glass. The sun would shine through deep purples and reds so that the heavenly light from the sun would be mingled with the gorgeous earthly colors of man-made glass art, illuminating what's the best in mankind. The windows had pictures of the apostles who had once walked on the earth, serving others because of God's love for mankind. And there were martyrs who had stood firm for truth even through flames, pain, and the disapproval of many hostile, insulting enemies. There were saints who had withstood temptations
and glorified God by humbly submitting to His will.' 'God speaks to children, too. Sometimes He speaks to them in dreams and in messages that come in the darkness. But, most of all, He speaks in solitude, when His voice can be heard because the heart is meditative enough to hear Him in the truths and services of a public church. God holds 'undisturbed communication' with children. Solitude can be as silent as light. But it is also as mighty as light because solitude is necessary to people. Everyone comes into this world alone, and everyone leaves it alone.'
The right books have the ability to inspire and stir the emotions. But that makes us ask, which are the right books? And I don't want to claim that I have the answer to that question. Someone might compile a list of 'the hundred best books for school,' but it won't be me. But I'd like to give one or two principles about selecting books, and leave the more difficult task of applying those principles to my readers. For one thing, I think it's important for children to dig for knowledge for themselves from the appropriate books in all their subjects. We owe them that. There are two reasons for this. When a child works and finds something for himself, it's his for life. But whatever comes too easily from hearing it like a casual song in the air, tends to float out of the mind as easily as it floated in. It rarely gets assimilated. I don't mean that lectures and oral lessons are totally useless, but their role should be to inspire and give direction to what's learned. They shouldn't be the medium used to dispense knowledge, and they shouldn't replace the part of education that comes from appropriate knowledge given in the appropriate way.
Like I've already said, ideas need to come from the thinker's mind directly, and it's mostly with the books they wrote that we make contact with the best minds.
A couple of things can be said about the distinguishing marks of a good school book. The right book isn't necessarily a big book. When John Quincy Adams was nine years old, he wrote to his father to ask for the fourth volume of Tobias Smollett's History of England to read in his free time, although he admitted that he was more preoccupied thinking about birds' eggs. Maybe some of my readers remember reading systematically through the many volumes of Alison's History of Europe, privately priding ourselves on how much good we were doing for ourselves by getting through such a big book. But these days, even great men write short books, although these books should be used with discretion because they're sometimes nothing more than abridgments, the dry dull bones of the subject. But sometimes a short book is fresh and living. Secondly, it isn't necessary to insist on using only books written by original thinkers. In some cases, a mediocre mind is able to assimilate the knowledge about a subject and reprocess it in a form that's more suitable for students than what the original thinker wrote. There's no hard and fast rule. A thick book, a short book, a first-hand source or a second-hand one--either one might be the right book, as long as we're able to tell when a book is living, able to quicken the mind, and full of living ideas about its subject.
So much for how to tell which are the right books. The right way to use them is another matter. The children need to enjoy the book. Each of the ideas in the book needs to make a sudden delightful impact on the child's mind, causing an intellectual awakening that signifies that an idea has been born. The teacher's role in this is to see and feel for himself, and then to prompt his students with an appreciative look or
comment. But he needs to be careful that he doesn't deaden the impression of the idea with too much talking. Intellectual sympathy is stimulating, but we've all been like the little girl who said, 'Mom, I think I'd be able to understand it if you'd stop explaining so much.' One teacher said this about a student--'I find it so hard to tell whether she's really grasped the concept, or whether she just knows the mechanics of getting the right answer.' Children are like little monkeys. All they usually get from a flood of explanations is the trick of coming up with the right answer.
This process of getting ideas from the text isn't the only thing we need to do with books. 'In all work there's some profit.' At least, there's profit in some work. A book needs to make a child expend some effort in thinking. The child needs to make generalizations, classify, infer, make judgments, be able to visualize, discriminate, or use his capable mind to work in some kind of way until the knowledge in the book is sorted so that some is assimilated and some is rejected, according to his own decision. In the end, he's the one who decides what he'll get out of a book, not his teacher.
The easiest way to deal with a paragraph or chapter is to have the child narrate it after a single reading that he's paid close attention to. Only one reading, no matter how slow, should be the requirement, because we tend to make sure we'll have another opportunity to 'find out what it's all about.' If we don't get a clear grasp of the daily news, there's always a weekend edition. If we still haven't got it, there's a monthly news magazine, or a quarterly review, or an annual report. In fact, many of us are content to let present events, history in the making, pass right by us, and it doesn't bother us. We have a false sense of security in knowing that, in the end, we'll find out what happened one way or another. This is a bad habit to get into. We should make sure that our children don't get into that habit
by not giving them a vague expectation that there will always be a second and third and tenth opportunity to do what should have been done the first time.
There's a big difference between intelligent reading that a child does in silence, and a mere cramming of information in order to repeat it back like a parrot. It's a good educational exercize for the child to be able to give the different points in a description, or put a series of events in proper sequence, or reconstruct the line of an argument point by point--after reading the passage just once. This is a skill that lawyers, publishers and scholars work to acquire. It's an ability that children can acquire easily. And, once they have it, they'll have crossed the bridge that divides readers from non-readers.
But that's only one way to use books. Some other things that can be done are numbering the statements in a paragraph or chapter, analyzing a chapter, dividing a chapter into paragraphs with suitable subtitles, arranging and classifying series, tracing causes to results and tracing results back to causes, analyzing the characters of people in a book and considering how character and circumstances work together to produce a certain outcome--getting life lessons and learning how to act, which is the living knowledge that can make practical science out of any book. All of this is possible for students. In fact, they haven't truly begun their education until they start using books this way.
First of all, the teacher's role is to see what needs to be done by looking over the day's lessons beforehand to see what mental discipline and vital knowledge can be gotten from various lessons, and then to plan questions and tasks that will give his students a full scope
of mental activity. Writing notes in the margins of books is fine if it's done neatly and beautifully--books should be handled with respect. Numbers, letters and underlining can be used to help spot points and to save the needless work of writing out notes. Let the student write out a half dozen questions about the passage studied. He doesn't even need to write out the answers if he understands that the mind can only truly know whatever it can rephrase as an answer to a question that it asks itself.
These few suggestions aren't meant to thoroughly exhaust all the disciplined uses of a good school book. But we do need to make sure that our systematic exercises and other tools to help grasp and categorize knowledge don't come between the child and the living thought that comprises the soul of the book. Science is promising so much these days, nature seems to be unfolding right before us, art is revealing so much meaning to us, the world is becoming so abundantly rich for us, that we're in a bit of danger of neglecting the art of getting nourishment from books. Let's not impoverish our lives and our children's lives. As the golden words of Milton say,
'Books aren't static dead things. They contain the potency of life within them so that they can be as active as the mind who wrote them. They preserve the purest power and expression of the living mind that created them, as if it were in a bottle. Killing a good book is almost like killing a man. Whoever kills a man kills a good, reasonable being created in God's image, but whoever kills a good book kills reason itself, and kills the image of God itself.'
'But who's going to divide up his intellect in some geometric pattern,
Splitting up his mind like a province of neatly shaped farmlands?
Who can know in which moment his first habits were sown, like seeds?
Who can point to different areas of his mind and say,
That part of the river of my mind came from that particular fountain
over there'?
-- adapted from Wordsworth's 'Prelude'
I don't need to emphasize what kind of educational tools we should use. We know that 'Education is an atmosphere, a discipline, a life.' By that, we mean that parents and teachers should know how to make the best use of a child's circumstances (atmosphere) in order to advance a solid education; they should cultivate his self-discipline by training him to have the kind of habits that will make his life run smoothly (discipline), and they should nourish his mind with ideas, since that's the kind of mental food that develops their personalities (life).
We believe that these are the only three tools that we can validly use in raising children. Any shortcut we take by taking advantage of their sensitivities,
emotions, desires, or passions will bring grief to both us and our children. The reason is simple: habits, ideas and circumstances are all external and it's never wrong to help any person to improve in those things, but it's wrong to directly interfere with someone else's personality. It isn't right to play on his ego, his fears, his affection, his ambition, or anything that's his by right and is a part of what makes him the unique individual that he is.
Most conscientious people are sincerely concerned about the best way to bring up children. But that can sometimes make us want to control more than we're entitled to, and not recognize the boundaries that limit us to only the outer manifestations of the child's personality. Adults and children aren't much different. One gracious writer has helped us by following Jesus's method of educating the twelve disciples.
He writes, 'Our Lord respected whatever the person had within himself on his own, and He was very careful to encourage the natural development of his individual personality . . . In His view, people weren't merely clay in the hands of a potter to be molded into shape. He saw them as organic, living beings, with their own individuality growing from within, with a life of their own--a unique, personal life that was enormously precious to Him and His Father. He encouraged this development so that it would grow to its highest, most noble potential.' (Pastor Pastorum, by H. Latham, M.A., pg 6)
I don't think we allow life and normal circumstances to just naturally occur in children's lives. We control too much, as if we were shielding little lambs from the wind. We shelter them from knowledge about pain, sin, need, suffering, disease, death
and other hazards in ordinary life. I'm not saying we should expose children's tender souls to distress with careless abandon, but we should recognize that life has a calling for them, as much as it does for us. Nature provides them with a subtle protection, as subtle as the scent of a violet, that screens them from traumatic shocks. Some parents won't even read their children fairy tales because they're afraid that they'll expose the children to the ugly facts of life too suddenly. It's worthwhile for us to consider Wordsworth's experience. I don't think we make use of two very useful treasures that we as parents and teachers could be using. Those treasures are the autobiographies of two great philosophers--William Wordsworth and John Ruskin.
Wordsworth tells us that, shortly after he started school at Hawkshead, the body of a suicide victim was found in Esthwaite Lake. It was a ghastly incident, but we can take comfort when we see how children are protected from shock. Wordsworth, the little boy, was there, and saw it all:
'Yet, as young as I was, not even nine years old,
No depressing fear possessed me, because, in my mind,
I had seen such sights before among silvery streams
Of fairyland in the romantic forests.
The memory of my imaginings covered the real tragedy
With an ornament of perfect grace.
It gave the incident a dignity, a smoothness, like the works
Of Greek art, or the purest poetry.'
It's reassuring to hear a child who went through it say that such a terrible scene was kept separate from him by an atmosphere of poetry, and a veil woven from fairy tales by his own fanciful imagination.
That doesn't mean that we should take unnecessary risks. We should use
a calm, matter-of-fact tone when we talk about fires, car wrecks or other terrors. For some children, the thought of Joseph being in the pit is scary, and even many of us adults can't handle a horrifying tale in the news or literature. The only thing I'm suggesting is that we treat children naturally and let them have their fair share in experiencing life as it really is. We shouldn't allow too much caution, or let our own panic dictate the way we deal with them.
As we know, the laws of habit are one of God's divine laws. Forming good habits and inhibiting bad habits are some of a parent's most important duties. But we need to remember that all habits, whether they're helpful ones or hindering ones, only come into play occasionally. Spontaneous living is going on all the time, and the only thing we can do to help that is to drop in inspiring ideas when we have the opportunity. All of this is old news, but I hope my readers will indulge me in saying again that our educational tools don't change, they stay the same. We can't leave out carefully and tactfully forming good habits any more than we can leave out subtly suggesting productive ideas and taking wise advantage of circumstances in our child's life.
What exactly is education? The answer lies in this phrase: Education is the Science of Relationships. As I said before, I don't mean it in the sense that Herbart did. He meant that ideas are related to each other, so we need to take care and be sure to pack the right ideas in the right order so that, once they've gotten into the child's mind, each idea can attach itself to its cousins and form a cliquish 'apperception mass.' What I mean is that we personally have relationships with everything that exists right now, everything
that's ever existed in the past, and everything that will exist in the future above us and all around us, and, for each of us, our fullness of life, broadness of mind, expression and ability to be useful depends on how much we grasp these relationships and how many of them we seize.
George Herbert expresses it well:
'Man is all symmetry,
Full of proportions, one limb connected to another,
And connected to the whole world
besides;
Each part of him can call on its farthest brother,
Because the head and the foot have a private bond,
And both have a connection with
moons and tides.'
[Charlotte Mason added the emphasis.]
Every child is heir to a vast inheritance, inheriting all of the past ages and everything in the present. The question is, what procedures (speaking educationally, not of legal papers) are necessary so that he can take possession of what's already his? The point of view is changed. It's no longer subjective, but objective regarding the child.
Seen from this perspective, we no longer talk about how to develop his faculties, or how to train his moral nature, or guide his religious sentiments, or educate him towards his future career or social standing. We don't need the joys of 'child-study.' Instead, we accept the child as he is--a person with a lot of healthy affinities and inborn attachments. Therefore, we perceive that our task is to give him a chance to make the largest number of these attachments good [by exposing him to as many things as possible.]
Infants are born into the world with hundreds of these inborn
sensors, and they go right to work to establish them with surprising energy:
'The baby,
Nursed in his mother's arms, sinks off to sleep
Rocked on his mother's breast. With his soul,
He drinks in the feelings of his Mother's eyes!
For him, there exists in one dear Person
A virtue that radiates and exalts
Things through the widest connections of sense.
He's no bewildered and depressed outcast.
All of his infant veins are interfused with
The appealing and obligatory bond
Of nature that connects him with the world.'
-- adapted from 'The Prelude'
He attaches his being to Mother, Father, Sister, Brother, Grandma, the man in the street that he calls 'dada,' the cat and dog, spider and fly. Earth, air, fire and water are dangerously fascinating to him. His eyes crave light and color, his ears crave sound, his limbs crave movement. He's interested in everything, and from everything he receives:
'That calm delight
Which, if I'm not mistaken, must surely belong
To those first inborn attractions that help connect
Our new existence to things that exist in the real world,
And, in our first days, make up
The bond that joins life with joy.'
-- adapted from 'The Prelude'
And, when he's left to himself, he also gets real knowledge about each thing, and that knowledge reinforces his relationship with that particular thing.
Later on, we step in to educate him. It's only in the proportion to how many living relationships we expose him to that he'll have wide, meaningful interests that will give his life fullness. It's only in proportion to how aware he's made
of the laws that govern every relationship, that his life will be lived in duty and service. As he learns that every relationship with both people and things needs to be maintained with deliberate effort, he'll recognize the laws of work, and the joy of labor. Our role is to remove obstacles, pique interest and provide guidance to the child who's trying to get in touch with the vast world of things and thoughts--the vast world that's his rightful inheritance.
The tragic mistake that we make is that we assume that we're the tour guide who's going to show him the world. Not only that, but we act like there's no connection between the child and the universe unless we decide to set one up for him. We imagine that we have all the control, and if we decide that a low-income child only needs to be educated in the 3 R's, what right does he have to want anything more? If his idea of life is Saturday nights spent partying at the local bar, it's not our fault! If our own children graduate from high school and college and don't have any meaningful interests or connections to worthwhile things, we're convinced that that's not our fault, either. We resent it when they're called 'dull slouches' because we know that they're really decent people. And so they are. They're splendid material that never quite completed in development.
Hamlet said,
'Every man has business and desire.'
That was undoubtedly true in the boundless days of the great Queen Elizabeth I. But what about us? Yes, we have business, but do we have desire? Are there lots of enthusiastic interests calling to us after we're done with the work we have to do? Maybe not, otherwise we wouldn't be enslaved by the uninspired 'joys' of Ping-Pong, Solitaire, Bridge and other trivial games. The
thing is, real interests aren't things that can be picked up on a whim at the spur of the moment. They spring up from affinities that we find and hold onto. As one old writer said, 'When it comes to worldly and material things, whatever is used is spent and gone. But when it comes to intellectual and spiritual things, whatever isn't used is lost.'
Once we recognize that it's up to us to provide more for our children than financial security, the question is, how do we go about it?
A child should have what we call dynamic relationships with the earth and water. He needs to run, jump, dance, ride and swim. Here's an example of how not to do it from Praeterita:
'And so on to Llanberis and up Snowdon . . . if only my parents had recognized my real strengths and weaknesses. If only they would have given me a shaggy old Welsh pony and let me spend time with a good Welsh guide and his wife! If I'd tried to get any coddling, they would made a man of me . . . If only! But they could never have done that, it would have been as unlikely as throwing my cousin Charles into the Croydon Canal. My father took some time off from his work once or twice a week and took me to an enclosed square sky-lit riding school in Moorfields with sawdust on the floor. It was more like a prison. Even the smell of it as we turned into the gate to enter it was a terror and a horror and abomination to me. There, they put me on big horses that jumped and reared up, and circled, and sidled. I fell off every time the horse did any of these things. I was a shame to my family, and felt disgraced and miserable. Finally I sprained the forefinger on my right hand (it's never been the same since) and riding school was abandoned. They bought me a well-broken Shetland pony and the two of us were led around the roads of Norwood with a rope by a riding teacher.
'I would do pretty well as long as we were going straight, but then my mind would wander and I'd fall off when we turned a corner. I might have gotten the hang of it if they hadn't made a fuss about it and continued to ask how much I'd stayed on and how many times I fell off, but as soon as I'd get home, my mother would give me the third degree about my day's disgraces, and I just got more stressed and nervous with each fall. Finally, riding lessons were given up altogether. My parents consoled themselves as best they could by concluding that my inability to ride horseback must signify that I had great genius in some other area.'
Ruskin suffered for his condition. His parents were suburban middle class people who tend to think too much about bringing up children, but not very wisely. They tend to choke out a good part of living with too much over-protectiveness and coddling, and they're apt to be convinced that their children don't need any other outlets than the ones they themselves think to provide. Suburban life is a necessity in our culture, but it's a misfortune, too. Well-to-do people in a suburb are around their own kind too much. They're cut off from the lowly, from the great, from honest work, from adventure, and from needs. I think that all parents who live in the suburbs should read Praeterita. Even though John Ruskin shows chivalrous loyalty to his parents, his book gives an accusation, not of his parents, but of the limitations of his situation. One can almost hear the child crying out on every page, like Laurence Sterne's caged starling--'I can't get out, I can't get out!'
One might say that, whatever the faults of his education were, a great man like John Ruskin was the result. But who can say how much better an influence Ruskin might have been
if he'd been allowed his right to a free life when he was little? And it's also safe to admit that not every child born and living a sheltered life in a mansion will be another Ruskin! We can't follow the setting up of Ruskin's further connections with the dynamic relationships that were suitable for him, because his parents didn't allow it, so nothing happened. He says that his mother 'never allowed me to go near the edge of a pond, or be in a field that a pony was in.' But he comments 'with thankfulness the benefit I got from a ditch in Croxted Lane that had tadpoles.' He says that Camberwell Green had a pond, and 'one of the most treasured joys of my childhood was when my nurse would let me stare at this contemplative pond with awe from the other side of the way.'
Wordsworth's childhood was a lot more rough and tumble! When he was nine, he was sent to the school in the little village of Hawkshead [where it was common for the pupils to board in the homes of local women]. Wordsworth lived in the cottage of Mrs. Anne Tyson. Most things at home and school pleased him. He didn't get lessons in horse riding, skating, hockey or tennis, but the local boys probably made it clear that he'd have to do what they did if he wanted to fit in. But by the time he went to school, he was already a healthy, strong little boy because his mother had allowed him to really live.
'How many times as a five year old
In a small creek cut off from the stream
I spent the whole day playing in the water,
Basking in the sun, playing, and basking some more.'
Here's what he says about his childhood:
'My soul had good time to take root, and I grew up
Nourished by both beauty and fear.'
Before he turned ten, he moved to his 'beloved Vale.' He says about it,
'There, we were let loose
To enjoy an even greater variety of amusements.'
Those Hawkshead boys did all kinds of things! He writes about times,
'When I hung
Higher than the raven's nest, by clumps of grass
And half-inch fissures in the slippery rock
Hanging precariously and almost (it seemed)
Held up only by the gusty wind
That blew against the crag.'
Those boys went skating:
'Wearing steel blades,
We'd skim along the polished ice playing organized games
That imitated the chase,
And the sports of the woods--blowing horns,
The dogs barking, and the hunted rabbit.'
They played:
'Week after week, and month after month, we lived
A life of activity. Every day our games
Lasted in summer until it got dark.'
They went boating:
'When summer came,
On bright days when we had half the day free,
We would sail along the plain of Windermere
Racing with our oars . . .
This kind of race,
Never ended in disappointment,
There were no sore losers, no frustration, no jealousy.
We rested in the shade, everyone satisfied,
Both the winners and the losers.'
Young Wordsworth also had his share of horseback experiences when he and his schoolmates would return to school
with plenty of things to talk about after their long vacation. They would hire some horses from a 'courteous innkeeper' and ride off, 'proud to curb, and eager to spur on the galloping horse.' And then they'd come home:
'Through the walls we flew,
And down the valley, making a circle
In a carefree way. Through rough and smooth paths,
We scampered towards home.'
Wordsworth doesn't say much about affinity for material resources and the joy of handling and making things. But Ruskin seemed to be possibly interested in that, which is first evident with 'two boxes of smoothly cut wooden blocks,' and possibly resulted in his road-making days while he was at Oxford. He writes:
'Afterwards, I was given a small two-arched bridge that had impressive wedge-shaped stones and headstones, and level layers of masonry with beveled edges that dovetailed the same way that the Waterloo Bridge does. The centrings were well made and there were inlaid steps leading down to the water so that this bridge model was accurate and instructive. I never got tired of constructing it, dismantling it (it was too strong to be knocked down, so it had to be deconstructed piece by piece) and building it again.'
We know that he kept himself busy building a small dam and a reservoir when he lived at Herne Hill and Denmark Hill. When he was still a little boy, he scrubbed the steps of a hotel in the Alps with a broom and a pail of water because they bothered his mother. I think this shows that his nature was crying out for more opportunities.
We don't
read that either boy had much intimacy with natural objects, like birds and flowers. Here again, it seems like Ruskin just never had the chance because he was deprived of opportunities. All of the flowers that he knew were cultivated garden varieties. Is there anything more pathetic than this? 'My main prayer to the kindness of heaven during the season when flowers bloom was that the frost wouldn't touch the almond blossoms.' (Those who have read Love's Meinie and Proserpine will know that, later in Ruskin's life, he had compensations that made up for his childhood disadvantages.)
Wordsworth seems not to have had any special intimacy with flowers until he acquired it from his sister Dorothy. He writes, 'She gave me eyes, she gave me ears.' We've already seen that his knowledge of birds came from the horrid sport of robbing birds' nests. Yet, one day when he and his wild friends rode to Furness Abbey, he wrote,
'That simple wren sang so sweetly
In the center of the old church
That I could have moved in and stayed there forever
Just to hear such beautiful music.'
Ruskin might not have had exposure to a wide variety of wildflowers, but perhaps he made up for that by giving enormous attention to the few that did come his way. In the same way that blocks and his model bridge gave him his first exposure to the principles of architecture, maybe his early flower studies were what gave him his ability to see and express detail. He writes about flowers, 'I passed all of my time staring at them, or staring into them. I pulled every flower to pieces, not in morbid curiosity, but admiring wonder and fascination until I knew everything that could be seen with a child's eyes. I used to hoard
little treasures of seeds as if they were pearls and beads. I never had any intention of planting them.' Yet he complains that books on Botany were more difficult than his Latin Grammar.
Ruskin writes, 'If there'd been somebody to teach me anything about plants or pebbles, it would have been so good for me.' He loved the pebbles of the Tay River, and followed up his acquaintance with these by studying the pebbles at Matlock bath (from the River Derwent). 'I was ecstatically happy to pursue my studies of minerals by looking at fluor, calcite, and lead ore that were in the glittering white broken rocks, speckled with blue-gray lead sulfite that made the walkways by the hotel garden sparkle, and were also in the hills of the pretty village and paths along its cliffs. I can't describe the joy I felt when I was allowed to go into a cave.'
Later, he went up Mount Snowdon in Wales. 'I remember, during the climb up, that the most exciting part was finding a 'real' mineral for myself for the first time, a piece of copper pyrite!' This eagerly sought-after knowledge of pebbles resulted in his life-changing intimacy with minerals, which led to him writing The Ethics of the Dust.
As far as Books, we read that John Ruskin grew up on the Waverley novels, Pope's translation of The Iliad, many of Shakespeare's plays, and a lot of other delightful books. But he doesn't indicate that he ever had the kind of experience we're looking for--a sudden, passionate, insatiable delight in a book that indicates a real connection. We don't see that until he's introduced to Lord Byron. He says he first read Byron 'about the beginning of the teen years':
'Very certainly, by the end of 1834, I was pretty familiar with all of Byron's works, all except Cain, Werner, the
Deformed Transformation, and Vision of Judgment. I didn't understand them, and my parents didn't think it would be a good idea for me to. I rejoiced in the sarcasm of Don Juan that I could understand. As soon as I got into the later cantos of it, I made a firm decision that Byron would be my master of verse, in the same way that Turner was my master in painting. I made that decision in the fledgling period of existence without being conscious of the deeper instincts that prompted it. I only recognized two things. First, his was the most exact truth of observation. And, second, the way he chose to express himself was the most concentrated that I had ever yet found in literature. But the totally new and precious thing that I found in Byron was his measured and living truth. His truth was measured as compared to Homer, and living as compared to everybody else. He taught me the meaning of Chillon and of Meillerie, and encouraged me to seek first in Venice--the ruins of the homes of Foscari and Falieri that Byron wrote about and made alive for me so that I came to perceive them as real people whose very feet had worn out the marble I walked on.'
Here's how Wordsworth took to his books:
'I had possessed a treasure for a long time--
A little yellow book covered in canvas,
A slender summary of the Arabian tales.
From friends I met when I lived in a new place,
I found out that this beloved book of mine
Was just the tip of the iceberg--
That the Arabian Nights had four whole volumes,
Full of similar content. Truly,
It was divinely promising!
And, from then on, when I returned home
During school vacations, I'd find
The glorious collection of books I'd left
And I'd be in heaven! Often
I've laid
Down beside the murmuring stream of the Derwent River
On the hot stones in the glaring sun,
Reading, devouring as I read,
Wasting the day's glory, I was so desperate!'
I can't leave out the advice that comes next:
'A gracious spirit presides over this earth,
And over the heart of man. It comes
Invisibly to works of unreproved delight,
And with a kind intent, it directs those
Who don't care, don't know, and don't think about what they do.
The tales that add charm to sleepless nights
In the Arabian Nights, legends written
For comfort by the dim light of monk's lamps;
Fiction for the ladies they loved were made up
By young squires; endless adventures told
By decrepit warriors in old age,
Out of the memories of the very plans
They had as young men.
These spread like daylight. And they will live
In some form until mankind ceases to exist.
We have unspoken yearnings and hidden desires,
And they must have their nourishment. Our childhood,
In all its simplicity, sits on a throne
That has more power than all of the elements.'
And here's more advice:
'Every once in a while, with reluctance, I would stoop
To reading concise themes. Yet I rejoice,
And, humbled by these thoughts, I pour out
Thanks with uplifted heart that I was raised
Safe from an evil that current times have put
Upon today's children. This pest
Might have dried me up, body and soul
Right where I was
If, instead of living in an environment of free choice
Where I was allowed to wander through libraries
Rich with mind food, like an open field
Of lush, happy pastures wherever I wanted,
I had been followed, watched constantly, and chained
To the depressing way chosen for me.'
Later we read about the first time he was captivated by poetry:
'I was ten
Or younger the first time my mind
Consciously enjoyed the charm
Of words in rhyming sequence, and found them to be sweet
For their own sakes, having a passion and a power.
And I enjoyed phrases chosen for their pleasure,
Or impressiveness, or love. Often, on public roads
That were nearly empty because the sun
Was just rising over the hills, I would go out
With a close friend, and for almost
Two delightful hours, we would stroll along
By the still banks of the misty lake
Repeating our favorite verses together as if we had one voice
Or talking together as happy as the birds
That were chirping around us.'
Ruskin's awakening historic sense seems to be a continual thing, and we can learn a lesson from that about the importance of places. In his case, historic interest and the delight of beauty seemed to be the same thing. We've already seen that in his quote about how Byron's poetry affected him. And here, he writes about the, 'three centers of thought in my own mind: Rouen, Geneva, and Pisa. They taught me all I know, and were mistresses of everything I did from the first moment I entered through their gates.' Before them, there was Abbeville, which 'ushered me into immediate healthy work and joy . . . Of course, my most intense periods of joy were when I was in the mountains. But it was also a happy, unmatched pleasure that I never got tired of to see Abbeville on a bright summer afternoon, when I'd jump out into the courtyard of the Hotel de l'Europe and rush down the street to see the Church of St. Wulfran while the
sun was still shining on its towers. These are reasons why we should cherish the past--until the end.'
But Ruskin's lack of living touch with the past, except when that kind of touch came through some newly discovered history of a place he happened to be in, is evident in his account of his first impressions of Rome:
'The whole of my Latin learning that I had to help me begin my studies of Rome, consisted of the first two books of Livy, which I hadn't learned very well, and the names of places that I'd remembered but never looked up on a map; a page or two of Tacitus, and the part in Virgil's book about the burning of Troy, the story of Dido, the episode about Euryalus, and the last battle. Of course, I had read the Aeneid half-heartedly, but I considered most of it nonsense. As far as later history, I had read some English summaries about the vices of their rulers, and I thought that malaria in the Campagna was a consequence of the Pope. I had never heard of a good Roman Emperor or a good Pope. I wasn't sure whether Trajan had lived before or after Jesus. I would have been satisfied and relieved if anybody had told me that Marcus Antonius was a Roman philosopher who lived at the same time as Socrates . . . Of course, we drove around Rome and the saw the Forum, Coliseum and so on. I had no distinct idea what the Forum was, or what it had ever been, or what the three pillars or the seven had to do with it, or the Arch of Severus. Whatever the Forum might have been, I didn't care in the least. As far as I could tell, the pillars on the Forum were too small and their capitals weren't carved very well, and the houses above them weren't nearly as interesting as the side of any alley in the old part of Edinburgh.'
Wordsworth was also aloof. He was vaguely aware of
'Old, unhappy, far-off things
And battles long ago,'
but the past histories of nations didn't interest him. According to what he wrote
in the Prelude, even the anguish of the French Revolution hardly made an impression on him, although he took a walking tour in Europe and experienced a moment where,
'The nations hailed their great expectancy
As if they were awakened from sleep.'
But in his case,
'I looked upon all of these things
As if I were seeing them from a distance. I heard and saw and felt,
And I was impressed, but I had no real concern.'
When it comes to the knowledge that's learned in schools, Ruskin gives some pretty dry details of his experience in learning Euclid, Latin grammar, and other subjects. But neither Ruskin nor Wordsworth seems to have been 'pricked with the rapture of a sudden inspiration' during any of his lessons, unless Hawkshead Grammar School wants to claim this:
'We have so many joys
In youth! But life is so wonderful
When every hour brings tangible access
To learning--when learning is delightful,
And completely lacking any sorrow!'
But the praise of nature's unfolding season comes after this, and I'm afraid it's their lessons that the poet had in mind.
Everyone's been interested in the illuminating will of the late Cecil Rhodes, and I imagine that most mothers and teachers have thought about the four qualifications for scholarships [this was the birth of the Rhodes Scholar.] The third criteria is 'fellowship,' and the fourth is 'leadership instincts and an interest and concern for his classmates.' It's good that a talent for friendship as an essential element is brought before us in such a prominent way. That's the rock
that Ruskin's education was split on, as he was sadly aware. He never knew the joys of friendship. The main blessings of his childhood were, 'peace, obedience, and faith--these three were the main good, and, after these, the habit of focusing attention with both the mind and the eyes.' He goes on to list the 'equally dominant disasters':
'First of all, I had nothing to love. My parents were rather like visible forces of nature to me, no more loved than the sun or the moon, although I would have been annoyed and bewildered if either of them had disappeared (and more so now that both of them are gone!) I loved God even less. It's not that I had any quarrel with Him, or dread of Him. I simply thought that what people told me about serving Him sounded unpleasant, and what I heard about His book didn't sound very entertaining. I had no friends to quarrel with, either--nobody I could help, and nobody to thank. Servants were never allowed to do any more for me than was part of their required duty. And why should I have been grateful to the cook for cooking, or to the gardener for gardening? My present conclusion about my general education of those days is that it was both too formal and too luxurious. At the most crucial time of my character development, it left me excessively cramped, yet undisciplined, and that it only protected my innocence, without helping me to practice doing the right thing.'
As we've seen, Wordsworth, by comparison, lived the life of his schoolmates with entire abandon. He was always either with a crowd of playmates, or he was with one friend. He was only alone during those moments of deeper intimacy that we'll discuss later. The simple life of his 'beloved Vale' took such passionate hold of his strong northern nature that neither Cambridge nor London nor revolutionary Europe (as we just read) could displace his earliest images, or give direction to his most profound thoughts. Sir Walter Scott claimed to be 'intimate with all classes of my countrymen, from Scottish noblemen to Scottish
farmers.' And the result was the Waverley Novels. Wordsworth was happy to be familiar with the good-natured peasants of his own valleys, and poetic souls like his own. Maybe such limitations were what went into making the poet of plain living and high thinking, but limitations are dangerous [and shouldn't be deliberate].
I could trace how various other affinities came about in the lives of Ruskin and Wordsworth, but I don't have the space. All I can do is to show the joy of pursuing each new interest after being introduced to it, and then the resulting occupation in intense intimacy that never ends for the heart and soul. In these two geniuses, that intense intimacy became their vocation, or career.
Ruskin's career began when,
'On my thirteenth birthday, February 8th, 1832, my father's partner, Henry Telford, gave me Samuel Roger's book Italy, a Poem, and that determined the direction that my life took . . . as soon as I saw Turner's pictures, I decided that they would be my only masters, and I worked to imitate them as best I could with careful pen shading. . . .
'Finally my father gave me a copy of the Turner painting, 'Richmond Bridge, Surrey,' [possibly 'Richmond Hill and Bridge', or this one; Richmond Hill is in Surrey] not intending to start a collection, but just so I'd have one, assuming that one would be all I'd ever need or want to have.'
And here he talks about how he bought Turner's 'Harlech:'
'Any seeds of nobility that existed within me were all centered on my love for Turner. It wasn't just a piece of paper I bought for seventy pounds, It was a Welsh castle and village, and Mt. Snowdon in blue cloud.'
It wasn't until he was 22 that he produced what he considered his first sincere drawing:
'One day, on my way to Norwood, I noticed a little bit of ivy winding around a thorny stem. Even to my critical judgment, it seemed to be a decent composition, so I decided to make a light/shade sketch in pencil in my gray pocket notebook. I worked carefully as if it was a piece of sculpture, and I liked it more and more as I drew. When it was done, I realized that I had been wasting my time ever since I was twelve years old, because nobody had ever told me to just draw what was really there!'
Later we hear the story of his real initiation:
'I took out my notebook and carefully began to draw a little aspen tree that was across the road. Casually, but not lazily, I started drawing, and as I drew, my casual air passed away. The beautiful lines of the tree insisted on being recorded diligently. They became more and more beautiful as each line rose among the others and took its place. With increasing wonder every instant, I saw that they were composing themselves using finer laws than any that men knew about. Finally the tree was there on my paper, and everything I thought I had known about trees before seemed to be nothing. From that point on, 'He has made everything beautiful in His time' became my interpretation of the bond between the human mind and the things it can see.'
Let's intrude on the bringing about of one more intimate interest. We've seen how already young Ruskin has been exposed to mountains. Now he's going to have his first view of the Alps. He, his parents and his cousin Mary went for a walk on the first Sunday evening after they arrived at the garden terrace of Schaffhausen.
'Suddenly--look! Over there! None of us had for a moment thought that they would be clouds. They were as clear as crystal, sharp against the pure horizon of sky, and already rose-tinted with the setting sun. It was infinitely beyond everything we'd ever
thought or even dreamed. The walls of Eden, if we could have seen them, couldn't have been any more beautiful to us. Nothing could have been more powerful, like gazing around heaven, or at the sacred walls of death. For a child with my temperament, this was the most blessed entrance into life.'
What about Wordsworth? How shall we trace that pure, gracious, absorbing intimacy with Nature that was the master-light of all of Wordsworth's seeing? He reveals--
'The simple ways of my childhood
Are mostly what first caused me to love
Rivers, woods and fields. The passion was
Still in its infancy, sustained by chance
With nourishment that came
Even though I wasn't deliberately looking
for it.'
We can't trace every step of Wordsworth's growing delicate passion. We can only look at a phase here and there. As a boy, he and some of his friends from school were boating on Lake Windermere late one evening. They decided that one of them, the 'Minstrel of the Troop,' would stay behind on a small island:
'We rowed away gently, while he played his flute
Alone upon the rock. And then the calm
Still water effected my mind
With a weight of pleasure. The sky
Had never been so beautiful, the sight came into my heart
And captivated me like a dream.
In this way, my sympathies were broadened and
The daily common things I saw
Grew dear to me. I began to love the sun
Although not as much as I did later. Then I loved him as a pledge
And guarantee of this earthly life. It's a light
That we see and makes us feel alive.
It's not so much for the light and warmth that he shines on the world,
But because his rays
Made the morning hills so beautiful
And touched the western mountains with his glorious sunset.'
We can take one more look at this amazing child who, after he grew up, believed that every child is born a poet in the same way that he was.
'I was seventeen.
At this time
Blessings seemed to surround me like an ocean.
The days flew by, the years passed.
I had received so much
From Nature and her generous soul
That all my thoughts overflowed with emotion
I could only be content when, with incomparable joy,
I felt the emotions of God spread over all these things:
Over everything that moves and everything that's still;
Over everything that, even though it may be beyond the reach of thought
And human knowledge, and can't be seen
By the human eye, yet, to the heart, it still lives;
Over everything that leaps and runs and shouts and sings
Or beats the joyful air; over everything that glides
Under the waves, and even the wave itself
And the powerful deep waters.
. . . If I ever fail to speak of you
With a grateful voice, you mountains and lakes
And waterfalls, you mists and winds
That live among the hills where I was born.
If I have been pure in heart during my youth,
If, even though I spend time in the world, I'm content
With my own simple pleasures, if I've lived
And communicated with God and nature, separated
From little upsets and unworthy desires,
It's you I have to thank for that gift.'
Before we leave the Prelude, I'd like to draw your attention to Wordsworth's description of the 'child-studied' little snob of his days. Those were days when there was a lot of soul searching and lots of theories about education.
'In order that common sense
Might test this system by judging its results,
Allow me to let common sense analyze this
Example given faithfully.
Here is a child who never
Gets involved in quarrels because it would be
Beneath his dignity. His generosity, like a fountain,
Overflows with gifts. He doesn't have
A selfish bone in his body. None of the little
Flitting pleasures tempt him to do wrong.
Wandering beggars praise his name,
Animals recognize what a gentle person he is,
And fear, whether of real things
Or vague supernatural fears,
Don't bother him except when he dreams about them.
To make you even more amazed, look at how skilled he is
At spotting, how polished he is at noticing the ridiculous.
He knows what's inside the earth, and the names of the stars,
And he knows the policies of foreign countries.
He can spout off names of districts, cities, towns
All over the world, backwards and forwards.
He can sift and weigh information.
He questions everything.
He feels that he needs to grow wiser every day
Or else his life is wasted.
He takes note of every drop of knowledge
As it drips into the rippling pool in his heart.
He's like a tree growing unnaturally. Blame his gardener,
And pity the poor child.
Meanwhile, Mother Earth is sad
To find all the fun things she designed for him
Because she loved him
Ignored. In the woods, the flowers
Cry, and the riverbanks are depressed.
If only we had Fortunatus's Wishing Cap
Or the invisible coat
Of Jack the Giant Killer, or Robin Hood,
Or Sabra in the forest with St. George!
The child, whose love is here,
Could have one tremendous benefit:
He might be able to forget himself.'
I can't take the time to stop and collect any more
of the lessons and insight from these two wonderfully educational books, The Prelude and Praeterita. For now, it's enough if we've seen how children attach themselves to the affinities they're born with if they have the opportunity and proper freedom. Our role is to make sure plenty of opportunities are freely provided at home and at school. Children should have relationships with earth and water. They should run, jump, ride, swim, and establish the relationship that a maker has with material resources, and thy should do this with as many kinds of material resources as possible. They should have treasured intimate relationships with people, through face to face talking, through reading stories or poems, seeing pictures or sculpture, through finding flinthead arrows and being around cars. They should be familiar with animals, birds, plants and trees. Foreign people and their languages shouldn't be something unknown to them. And, most important of all, they should discover that the most intimate and highest of all relationships--the relationship to God--fulfills their entire being.
This kind of a plan isn't overwhelming because, in all of these things and even more, children have natural affinities. As human beings find their place in the universe, they put out feelers, trying to connect in every direction that's suitable for them. We need to get rid of the notion that the only way a child will ever know the 3 R's or Latin grammar is to focus his education on these and nothing else. The truth is, that for us as well as for our children, the broader our range of interests is, the more intelligently we'll understand each one of them.
But I'm not preaching to lazy people and claiming that education is casual and aimless. Many great authors have written at least one book about education. Sir Walter Scott's contribution seems to be Waverley.
We're told that Edward Waverley 'was pretty much allowed to learn whatever he wanted, when he wanted, if he wanted.' He seemed to want to learn, and he was able to grasp things unusually quickly, so this kind of approach to education seems justified. But he was allowed to grow up wavering, so he remained like his name: Waverley. His life was marked with instability and ineffectiveness. The way he was educated and the results of that educated are described:
'Edward would throw himself eagerly into the books of whatever classic author his tutor suggested. He would master the style enough to understand the story. If he liked it or found it interesting, he'd finish the volume of that author's books. But it was useless to try to get him to focus on serious literary study, differences in idioms, the beauty of well-chosen phrases, or artificial grammatical combinations. 'I can read and understand Latin authors,' young Edward protested, with the self-confident and impulsive reasoning of a fifteen year old. 'Even Scaliger or Bentley couldn't do much better than that.' Unfortunately, while he was allowed to read only for entertainment, he didn't realize that he was losing the opportunity forever to form good habits of determination, hard work, control, self-direction, and the ability to make himself focus his attention. And that's an art that's even more essential than being intimately familiar with the classics, which are the main object of studying.'
Waverley illustrates what Ruskin says plainly: no matter what we do with our youth, it stays with us forever:
'The laws of prescription are so stubborn and so unchangeable that now, looking back over my life from now at 1886, to my youth by the side of a brook in 1837, viewing my entire youth, I discover that nothing about me has really changed. Some parts of me have died away, and some of me is stronger. I've learned some new things, and forgotten lots of things. But I'm still the same me, disappointed and rheumatic.'
We've seen that both Ruskin and Wordsworth had the ability to work hard at focusing their attention, which is necessary in order for a person to be receptive. It made each of them productive in his own area. Anyone who wants to do a thing, whether it's baseball or portrait painting, has to learn the rules diligently and gain skill with practice and effort. It's true that work we love will override pain, but it's also true that we won't be able to enjoy any of the affinities that are waiting for us without strenuous effort and respect. You might think that a bird-watcher has chosen an easy hobby. But that's not true. A true bird lover is outside by 4 a.m. to assist with the birds' uprising, or even out at Hyde Park at 2:30 a.m. to try and catch a glimpse of a kingfisher! He lies in wait, hiding in secret places to watch the birds in their natural habitat. He travels to far locations to see new birds in other places in the world. He gives his attention, labor, love and reverence to the study of birds. He gains joy in this, so maybe his effort is unconscious, but the effort is still there.
Here's another example of an affinity: sociability. Most of us have serious thoughts about what it means to be a true friend. But we tend to take the social camaraderie of our buddies too casually. We think it's maintained sufficiently if we meet at parties, games, picnics, etc. Boarding school boys usually know better. They've learned that having buddies takes some good-natured give and take, teasing, help, honest criticism, serious correcting when it's needed, loyalty, confident and trustworthy leadership, reliable following, speaking the truth, the ability to let others be first with no hard feelings, and the ability to be first without being conceited. This
calls for attention, effort, love and respect. But the effort is overshadowed by the enjoyment of the relationship.
I'd like to make one more point. We remain faithful to whatever affinities captivate us until death, or even longer. I'd like to say a word about the 'advantages' of special instructors and classes that a big city like London offers. [Too many activities aren't a good idea.] I suspect that it's most often the still pool that the angel comes down to stir. A steady, unruffled routine of work without privileged extras lends itself best to the angel's 'stirring'--which takes the form of what Coleridge calls a 'Captain Idea,' striking our mind, and initiating contact with an affinity.
Neither The Prelude nor Praeterita has much to say about the study of the highest relationship of all--the most profound intimacy that man's soul can have. I think the best way I can close is with a quote from a little book called The Practice of the Presence of God which tells about the spiritual life of Brother Lawrence, a barefooted Carmelite lay Brother in 1600's Paris.
'The first time I saw Brother Lawrence was on Aug. 3, 1666. He told me that God had done him a personal favor when he was converted at age eighteen. It was winter, and he saw a tree that didn't have any leaves. He reflected on the thought that, in just a little while, the tree would have leaves, and then it would have flowers and fruit. This gave him a higher perspective of God's power and providence, and that impression never left him. This thought set him free from the world and kindled such a love for God inside him, that he couldn't even tell whether his love for God had grown in the forty years that he'd been a Christian. He said that he had been a footman working for the treasurer M. Fieubert, but that he was clumsy and kept breaking things. He wanted to be
allowed to go into a monastery because he thought that, there, he would be punished for his clumsiness and other faults. In that way, he'd be able to sacrifice his life and all its pleasures to God. But God disappointed him. He had been perfectly content in that situation . . . He said that, for him, scheduled times of prayer were no different from other times. He retired to a secluded place to pray as his superior dictated, but he didn't really need to do that because even his most important duties didn't take his mind off God . . . He said that the greatest pains and the greatest pleasures that this world has are nothing compared with what he'd experienced of spiritual pain and pleasure, so he didn't worry about anything and he feared nothing. The only thing he wanted of God was to not offend him . . . He said that he had experienced God's help so often on various occasions that, any time he had business to do, he never thought about it beforehand. When it was time to do it, he found all that he needed to do in God, just like in a clear mirror. Lately he had acted like this, not worrying about his affairs, but before, he had often been anxious in his duties. When some outward business distracted him a bit from thinking of God, a fresh remembrance from God would come into his soul, and he'd be so inspired and transported that it would be difficult for him to contain himself. He was more united with God in his outward business than he was when he separated himself for devotion in a retired place.'
'I want, I'm made for, I must have a God
Before I can be anything, do anything. It isn't just a Name
That I need, but the True Thing, with what proves that it's true.
In other words, I need a connection from that Thing to myself.
I need it to touch me from head to toe. When I feel this touch,
Then I'll take the rest with it, this Life of Ours!'
-- adapted from Browning
Charlotte Mason discusses this Manifesto in a Parents Review article from 1903, online here.
'Lessons should be enjoyable; they should enhance the individual and give him the ability he needs for life.'
Every child has a right to be exposed to several fields
of knowledge.
Every normal child has a natural appetite for this kind of knowledge.
This appetite, or natural desire, is all a child needs to motivate him
to do his lessons, if the knowledge is presented properly.
The desire to learn is destroyed in four ways:
(1) Too much talking at the child, offering
diluted knowledge without giving the child time and space to reflect
and digest that knowledge.
(2) Lectures that are assembled, arranged and
illustrated from different sources by the teacher. These usually offer
knowledge that's so condensed and well-prepared that the child doesn't
need to think about it, and doesn't assimilate it.
(3) Textbooks that are compressed and filtered
and recompressed until they bear little of the original living
ideas from the mind they started with.
(4) The use of competition and desire for
achievement as motives to do lessons, instead of the natural hunger and
love for knowledge that are all a child needs to learn.
Children learn best from real, tangible things, and
books. Tangible things include:
a. Natural structures for physical activity
like climbing, swimming, walking, etc.
b. Resources for working and building with,
such as wood, leather or clay.
c. Natural objects in their native habitat,
like birds, plants, creeks, and stones.
d. Works of art.
e. Scientific instruments.
Most people acknowledge the need for tangible things in learning, as in hands-on education, but fewer people recognize that intellectual education has to come from books.
Every student six years old and up should enjoy studying their own books from each of their subjects, and their books should represent a pretty wide curriculum. Children between the ages of six to eight will need to have most of their books read aloud to them.
This approach has been used with successful results for the past twelve years in many home schoolrooms and some other schools.
By freely using books, the mechanical difficulties of education -- reading, spelling, composition, etc. -- disappear, and lessons become 'enjoyable; able to enhance the individual and give him the ability he needs for life.'
We believe that these principles can work in all schools, both elementary and high school, and they can make education more simplified, cheaper, and more disciplined.
The practical subject of this book is curriculum considerations, yet I've left that subject until these last few chapters because a curriculum isn't an isolated, independent thing, it's linked to many other things with chains of cause and effect. We had to consider the foundational principles of authority and submission first because they're so fundamental. But, because they are so fundamental, they should be there, yet not be visible--just like the foundation of a house supports a house, but isn't visible. Yet authority and submission need to take into account the respect for the child's individual personality. In order to give children space to develop freely according to their own particular 'bent,' parents and teachers need to adopt an attitude of 'masterly inactivity.'
I discussed the relationship between teachers and students, and then the relationship between education and current philosophy. Education should go along with current thinking, it shouldn't be isolated in a sealed compartment away from modern trends. Some current trends that should help us as we work towards an educational ideal are
a sense of the brotherhood of man, and a deep awareness of the process of evolution.
As far as the training of children falling under four convenient divisions--physical, mental, moral and religious--that seems to be common knowledge and generally accepted, so I didn't think it was necessary to give any suggestions about that. Instead, I've focused on aspects of training that fall under headings that are likely to be overlooked. Under the phrase 'Education is a life,' I tried to show that intellectual life needs ideas to stay alive. Therefore, school-books should be a place to glean ideas, not mere collections of dry facts. 'Education is the science of relationships' means that normal children have a natural, inborn desire for all knowledge, and they have a right to be exposed to it.
These considerations set the stage for us to begin considering curriculum, and that's what the rest of this book will cover. This is just a summary of what we've already covered. I hope you'll be patient as I repeat what seems to me to be necessary in making my point.
The following suggestions have come about in the administering of the Parents' National Educational Union, so it might be helpful to say again that the first priority for the PNEU during its first ten years was impressing the definition of Education on its members, as expressed in our motto, 'Education is an Atmosphere, a Discipline, a Life.' What we mean by this is that parents and teachers
should understand how to make the most practical use of a child's circumstances (atmosphere), they should help him develop the kinds of habits that will make his life better (discipline), and they should feed his mind with the food of intellectual life--ideas. We believe that these three are the only tools that are authorized in raising children. It might be easier to play on their sensitivities, emotions, desires and passions, but the result will be disastrous. Since habits, ideas and circumstances are external, it's okay to help each other make the most of them that we can. But it's forbidden to directly meddle with the personality of anyone else. It's wrong to play on a child's vanity, fears, affection, ambition, or anything else that helps make him who he is. Most people are sincere about raising children, but we tend to take control of more than we're entitled to by not recognizing that we're limited to working only with the outward covering of personality.
The Parents' Union devoted ten years to learning how to use the three tools of education (circumstances, habits and ideas). Then, a few years ago, we took a slight departure from that and asked ourselves what end goal we should have in mind as a result of wisely using these tools. What is education? The answer we accept is that Education is the Science of Relations.
We don't mean like Herbart did, that things and thoughts are related to each other and that, therefore, teachers have to be careful to pack the right corresponding things in the right order into the child's mind so that, once these things and thoughts get into the child's mind, each thing or thought finds others of its kind so that they can attach themselves together to form a strong, cliquish 'apperception mass.'
What concerns us personally is that we all
have relationships with things in the present world, and what's been in the past, what's in the skies above us, and what's around us. A full life and our ability to be useful depends on how many of these relationships we realize and take hold of. Every child is heir to an enormous inheritance. Our concern is, what are the practical things we need to do to help him gain possession of what's already his?
This changes our perspective. It's no longer subjective regarding the child [what do we feel like teaching him?] It's objective [what knowledge does he have a right to?] So we no longer focus on developing the child's faculties, or training his moral nature, or guiding his religious feelings, or grooming him to function in a particular social circle, or for a specific career. Instead, we accept the child as he is--a person with lots of healthy affinities and budding connections. We try to help him solidify as many of these connections as we can.
A newborn comes into the world with a thousand feelers, and he sets right to work eagerly to connect to the world. From everything around him, he gets,
'That calm joy that, if I'm not mistaken, surely must be part of
Those first-born affinities that connect
Our new existence to things that exist in the world.
And in our first days, they become
A bond that unites life and joy.'
-- adapted from 'The Prelude,' by
Wordsworth
When he's left to himself, he also gains the kind of real knowledge about each thing he comes across, and that knowledge helps to cement a relationship between him and that thing. Then later, we step in to educate him. The number of wide, essential interests he'll have, and how full his life will be, depends on the range of different living relationships we've exposed him to. He'll be a person of duty and
usefulness if we make him aware of the laws that govern all relationships to the world. When he recognizes that relationships with people and things take effort to maintain, he'll learn the laws of work and the joy of expending effort.
Our role is to remove obstacles, to stimulate interest, and provide guidance to the child as he tries to get in touch with the universe of things and thoughts around him. Our mistake is that we assume the role of showman to the universe and think that there's no connection between the child and his world unless we decide to set one up.
Do we have lots of captivating interests outside of our obligatory work? If we do, then we won't be enslaved by trivial amusements.
Real interests aren't something we take up on the spur of the moment. They emerge from whatever affinities we've found and connected with. And, the way I see it, the goal of education is to help children get as much use out of the world as possible.
When we're influenced by these kinds of considerations, the phrase 'Education is the science of relationships' will help us to form a definite goal in our efforts.
We've all become familiar with the term 'educational unrest,' and we all sense how appropriate the phrase is. There have never been more capable and dedicated teachers and educational staff in schools of all social classes. Money, labor and research are all spent generously on education. Theories are studied, and great pains are taken to find out what's going in education in other places. Yet something's wrong, and it's more than a 'divine discontent' that leads us to work harder. We know that a major change is needed in how we approach the problem, and we're ready as long as the change is something more substantial than
just an experiment. I think that school principals are the most ready to support a sensible reform. But, since they're more experienced and intellectually trained, they're too wise to jump on the bandwagon of change unless it has a reasonable philosophical foundation, as well as practical, utilitarian results.
Up until now, the Parents' Union has emphasized our home-training views to the public rather than our ideas about school teaching. But that's only because we're not willing to disturb the system that's already in place. But, for the last twelve years, we've successfully worked out a unifying principle and the way to implement it in our training college and school. We exist because we have a definite goal and because our existence is needed to meet that goal. I don't think I need to speak right now about the few principles that should guide us as we raise children [that's in Volumes 1 and 2], but the principle that's supposed to guide us in teaching knowledge (education) might indicate why so much of education is a failure, and show us how to improve.
We can take a phrase that Matthew Arnold wrote about religion and adapt it for education: 'education's goal should be to give knowledge that's touched with emotion.' I already quoted the cute story from Frederika Bremer's book Neighbors, about the two school girls who fought a duel on behalf of their heroes, Charles XII. and Peter the Great. Parents should be glad that girls don't duel these days! School girls don't care about heroes anymore. Now all they care about are their grades. They don't feel like knowledge is 'touched with emotion' except in cases of their own personal curiosity and ambition. Students have the potential to be generous and eager. If they
graduate from school without any real interests except preparing for their next exam, or the mind-numbing entertainment of pointless games, then it's the fault of the schools. Maybe the public's anxiety about secondary education at home and overseas is due to the fact that graduates coming out of schools that have excellent reputations, have listless minds. They haven't been given 'long drinks of intellectual enlightenment' to quench the thirst they had when they entered school.
H. C. Benson of Eton College wrote in 'The Schoolmaster,' which appeared in the December 1902 issue of Nineteenth Century, 'I truly believe that boarding school teachers have two strong ambitions: to make their students good and to make them healthy. They don't seem to care about making them intellectual. Intellectual life is left to fend for itself. I believe that too many teachers look at the students' work as a duty. In other words, they view it from a moral perspective rather than an intellectual perspective. No one can deny that the academic standard at English boarding schools is kept pretty low. Even more serious, I don't see any signs that it's on its way to getting any higher.'
Professor [Michael Ernest] Sadler, who may have a broader outlook, says almost the same thing. He says that our secondary schools have some good qualities, but they're behind intellectually, even as compared to schools in some European countries. Mr. Benson undoubtedly speaks from personal experience, but might it be true that such an intellectual group of teachers would deliberately neglect academic excellence in their schools? Or perhaps the problem is that exams force them to rely on the false intellect
of cramming? Cramming deadens the intellect, and that's why some of us consider teaching certification a backwards trend. Hundreds of mediocre young women work to cram for a set of exams, often a long set, so they can get their certificate. Head teachers are already feeling the decline of this system and have started actively seeking assistants who are different than the usual candidates. This causes the young woman to be too conscientious and try too hard, and the stress of years of moral effort to prepare for one exam after another often leaves them without any clear understanding of the material studied. There are some brilliant exceptions, but most young women who have gone through this process don't have much initiative, don't catch on to things very quickly, don't adapt easily, and can't think on their feet. They seem to lack spirit. I call their effort 'moral effort' because the preparing for exams and enduring a steady grind for a prolonged period of time doesn't require intellectual effort, it's mostly moral. Young men don't seem to have this problem--they're often less strenuous and less absorbed, and, therefore, more receptive to the ideas they come across while studying.
The idea that gives life to the teaching in the Parents' Union is the idea that 'Education is the Science of Relationships.' That phrase means that children come into the world with a 'natural appetite,' to use Coleridge's mental image, and with a natural attraction to knowledge of all kinds and in all forms. They have a natural interest in the heroic past and in the age of myths. They want to know about everything that moves and lives, and strange places and strange people. They want to handle materials and make things. They have a desire to run and ride and row and do whatever gravity
will allow them to do. That's why we think it's wrong to select certain subjects and exclude others when a child is young. For instance, it's not right to decide that a child shouldn't learn Latin, or doesn't need science. Instead, we strive to make sure that he'll establish enjoyable, intimate relationships with as many appropriate interests as possible. He won't just get a slight, incomplete smattering of this or that subject, either--we'll let him plunge right into vital knowledge, and introduce him to a great field of knowledge before him that will take more than his lifetime to explore. Having this concept in mind, we try to get that 'touch of emotion' that indicates that living knowledge is being taken in. We probably only feel when we enter our proper vital relationships.
We gain courage to challenge such a wide program just by applying a few working ideas or principles. One concept we challenge is the notion that there's such a thing as a 'child mind.' We don't believe that children are a different species than us. Yes, their ignorance is unlimited, but, on the other hand, their intelligence can run circles around our slower wits. In practical use, we discover that knowing this fact has great power. Teachers no longer talk down to children, and they don't strain to explain every word they use, or poke and pry to make sure that children understand every detail. When I was about twelve years old, I browsed quite a bit through William Cowper's poems and, for some reason, took an interest in 'Mrs. Montague's Feather Hangings'. It was only the other day that the ball that would fit that socket came to me--it arrived in the form of an article in The Quarterly called 'The Queen of the Bluestockings.' And, right there in that article, I recognized Mrs. Montague and her feather hangings! The pleasure of seeing her again after all those years was wonderful. Knowledge is at its most enriching when it
leaves behind a dormant appetite for more of the same kind of knowledge. Arthur Evans's discovery of the palace of Knossos in Crete can only be appreciated by those who remember how Ulysses told Penelope about Crete's ninety cities, and Knossos, and King Minos. It isn't what we've already learned that makes knowledge so fascinating, but what we're still waiting to know. Knowledge shouldn't be predigested or watered down. It should be offered to students with some substance and vitality still in it. We've discovered that children can cover a large and varied amount of knowledge intelligently, and enjoy it, in the same amount of time that it usually takes to cover the 3 R's, object lessons, and other overly-diluted material where there's more teaching being offered than knowledge.
I think the difference between knowledge and information is fundamental. Information is the record of facts, experiences, appearances, etc. that's compiled in books or in the verbal memory of an individual. But knowledge implies that there's been a pleasurable voluntary activity of the mind acting on the material presented to it. Great minds like Darwin and Plato are able to deal with appearances and experiences first-hand. But more ordinary minds only get a little of their knowledge this directly. For the most part, ordinary minds are set into action by the energizing knowledge of other people, which stimulates and provides a point of departure at the same time. Information acquired during a course of formal education is only by chance, and only of practical value in certain circumstances. But knowledge, on the other hand, is the result of the active working of the mind on material presented to it--and this kind of knowledge is power. It implies that the intellectual mind has grown in many different directions, and provides an ever new point of departure.
Perhaps the most important task for a teacher is to be able to tell the difference between their students gaining information, and knowledge. Since knowledge is power, the student who has gotten knowledge will be able to demonstrate power in dealing with it. He'll be able to remodel, condense, illustrate or narrate it vividly and with freedom in his wording. But the child who has only gained information will only be able to parrot the stereotypical phrases in his textbook, or mangle his teacher's lectures in his notes.
It's easier for us to deal directly with knowledge this way because we don't feel the pressure to develop 'faculties' first. For our practical purposes, the so-called 'faculties' can be collectively defined as 'the mind.' And we've found that the normal mind already has everything it needs to handle knowledge in the same way that the digestive process already has everything it needs to handle food. What we need to be concerned about is providing the kind of knowledge that will open up as large a share of the world the child lives in as possible for his use and enjoyment. There are certain gymnastic exercises for the body, and, for the mind, there are also certain disciplinary subjects that we can make use of. When the body digests food, it works invisibly and without our conscious awareness. In the same way, judgment, imagination and all the other mental abilities deal with the mental food of knowledge. It incorporates it and makes it part of the mind, which isn't the same as memorizing. Another analogy is that the digestive process is motivated by appetite. In the same way, children come into the world with a few inborn desires that motivate them to get what they need. These appetites are ambition, praise, wealth, the desire to excel, companionship, and curiosity--the craving for knowledge.
It seems to me that any education that appeals to the desire for wealth (grades, prizes, scholarships), or the desire to excel (being top in the class), or any other desire other than the craving for knowledge will upset the natural balance of character. Even more fatal, wrongly motivated educational efforts will kill any desire and love for the knowledge that's supposed to enrich and delight us for our entire lives. Dr. Johnson says, 'The desire to know is natural to mankind. Every human being whose mind hasn't been destroyed will be willing to sacrifice everything he has to get knowledge.' Could it be that a hunger for good grades is really the sign of a debased, ruined mind? A pure, healthy mind will eagerly take in knowledge. Our students have found their lessons so interesting that they don't need any other motivation to learn.
Related to the principle that Education is the Science of Relationships, is that no education is worth its name if it doesn't make children feel at home in the world of books. Education should connect children mind to mind with thinkers who have dealt with knowledge. We reject things like abridged synopses and condensed compilations. Instead, we provide children with books that, whether they're long or short, are definitely living. The teacher's main job is to help children deal with their books. Lectures and oral lessons are just a small part of the teacher's job, and are only used to summarize, expand or illustrate the book [--never in place of it!]
It's a tendency to put too much faith in lectures and oral lessons. Carlyle said, 'To have material poured into you as if you were a bucket isn't exhilarating to anyone.' And it's not very exhilarating to have every difficult concept
explained to the point of tediousness, or to be coaxed to explain with annoying questions. Dr. Johnson said, 'I refuse to be put to the question. Don't you think, sir, that this questioning is a rude way for a gentleman to behave? I refused to be baited with what? and why? What is this? What is that? Why is a cow's tail long? Why is a fox's tail bushy?' Children think the same thing, although they don't say so. Oral lessons are occasionally useful, and when they're used correctly, it's the child who will be curious enough to ask questions. It isn't as healthy or totally honest as has been supposed for a teacher to pose as the source of all knowledge who gives such nice lessons. Such lessons might seem interesting at the moment, but they deprive the child of having to exert any mental effort, and the result is the same as when an older person reads a magazine. But, on the other hand, when children work through a substantial book, even if takes two or three years to master, they stay interested to the end. They develop an intelligent curiosity about cause and effect. In fact, what they're doing is educating themselves.
H. G. Wells hit the nail on the head when he said that selecting the right schoolbooks is a teacher's great task. I'm not sure that this would necessarily be the way to do it, though--or if even a whole team of experts with a generous budget could really provide the kind of schoolbooks that children connect with. Children are unpredictable. They might dutifully plod through the volumes of dull texts that qualify as 'schoolbooks' or 'educational,' but they don't allow those books to reach their inner spirits and have access to their minds. A book might be long, short, old, contemporary, easy, difficult, written by a great man, or written by a lesser man, and still be the kind of living book that find its way into the mind of a young reader. An educational expert isn't the best person to choose because, in this case, it's the children themselves who are the experts. Even reading a single page will be enough for the child to make up his mind. Unfortunately, once he decides, he opens or closes his mind. Many impressive and admirable textbooks
that teachers dearly love are filed in the wastebasket of the schoolchild's mind, and that's why he doesn't absorb any of it, and can't produce results from it. The teacher needs to have an understanding of the difference between twaddle and simple clarity, and between excitement and vital life. Beyond that, he'll just have to test each book or see what kind of results other teachers have had with different books. But one thing he can be sure of is that a book only educates to the extent that it's vital and essential. But I've already discussed this subject in another chapter.
Once the right book has been found, the teacher needs to let the book take the lead, and be content to stay in the background. The book takes precedence over any lecture. The teacher's role is to get the students in the right attitude about the book with a word or two expressing his own interest in what's in the book, or his enjoyment of the author's style. The students only get knowledge when they dig for it themselves. Work paves the way for assimilation, which is the active mental process of converting information into real knowledge. The effort of working through the author's sequence of thought is more valuable to a student than any amount of oral lectures.
Do teachers understand the paralyzing, dulling effect that a deluge of talking has on the mind? Yes, an inspired speaker can waken a response so that his hearers listen with captivated attention, but not many of us can claim to be inspired, and we're sometimes aware of how difficult it is to hold our students' attention. We blame ourselves, but the real fault is isn't with us, it's with the method we're using. It's the diluted oral lesson or lecture used in place of a living, compelling book that's to blame. Oral lessons are sometimes needed to introduce, illustrate,
amplify or sum up a book. But they should be few and far between. Children will have to walk through life on their own, finding their intellectual nourishment for themselves. We shouldn't start them off getting used to crutches.
For the same reason, so we don't paralyze the mental ability of children, we should be cautious about using supplemental appliances (except for things like microscopes, telescopes, slide projectors that enhance the child's own observations). I once heard a teacher who taught in a town where ships were built say that he demanded and got from the school committee a scale cut-away model of a warship. He said that this model would be useful to his students when they went to work in the shipyard. But, during their school years, I believe that this would stifle their minds because the mind isn't able to conceive for itself when it has an elaborate model as its basis. I recently visited M. Bloch's impressive 'Peace and War' show at Lucerne. There were full models and cut-away diagrams of torpedoes, but I still didn't understand them. I asked the person I had dinner with to explain the principle. He used his eyeglass case to illustrate, and, after a few sentences, I understood what made a torpedo a torpedo. As it turned out, the man had worked in the War Office and been involved with torpedoes. The teacher's ability to illustrate his point with a coffee mug or ruler or whatever he has at hand, and the blackboard, seems to me to be more useful than even the most elaborate models and diagrams that dull the senses and switch off the active mind as soon as they're presented.
Another point I'd like to make is that
coordinating subjects shouldn't be based on the notion that they need to be planned to prevent ideas from clashing and to assist their formation into clumps of 'apperception masses.' They should be coordinated solely in reference to the natural and inevitable relationships to each other. When reading about the period of history of the Armada, we shouldn't devote math time to calculating how much food was necessary to sustain the Spanish fleet. That would be an arbitrary, forced connection, not a natural, inherent one. But it's natural to read whatever history, travel books, and literature will make the Spanish Armada come to life in the students' minds.
Our goal in education is to give children significant interests in as many different subjects as possible--to 'set their feet in a large room.' [Psa 31:8] The tragic evil of our day, as I see it, is intellectual apathy.
If we truly believe that a child is in the world to get all he can of the things that endure, and that his full, happy life and expansion, expression, resourcefulness, ability to serve--in other words, his character--depends on how much he recognizes the relationships that are proper for him and grasps them, then we should be gravely uneasy if a student graduates and has prejudices and only cares about sporting events instead of having essential interests and pursuits. We believe that our best students have principles that are credited as much to their school as their home. Our failure in education seems to be more intellectual than moral.
Students should be educated by Things and by Books. Ten years ago, utilizing Things in education wasn't thought much of, except in games at
boarding schools. But a great reform has taken place, and, today, the value of Things is widely recognized everywhere. Disciplinary exercises and artistic handicrafts are valued as much in education as geography and Latin. Nature study has been only a recent addition, but it's become accepted enthusiastically. If that Sikh that Cornelia Sorabji quoted in Spectator, 2nd August 1902 visits us again ten years from now, I hope that he wouldn't still say about us, 'The very thoughts of the people are about merchandise. They haven't learned the common language of Nature.' The teaching of Science is getting a lot of attention, so I don't need to stress how important it is in this book. Here and there, children are exposed to works of art, and that will become a more widely used tool of education in the future. I don't need to repeat what everyone already knows. So much general attention is being given to Things, and it seems to be being implemented correctly so far, so I have nothing more to add on the subject.
The educational failure that we still have to deal with regards Books. We recognize that all the knowledge and thought of the world is stored in Books, but we're overwhelmed by the amount of knowledge and number of books. So we think we can take selections here and there from this or that book, using fragments and facts of knowledge and distributing them in booklets to be studied for exams, or oral lessons and lectures.
Sir Philip Magnus [an educationalist] recently spoke about Headwork and Handicrafts in Elementary Schools, and he said some things worth considering. Maybe he puts too much of a priority on workshops in his ideal schools of the future, but he certainly is accurate in singling out the weak point in
elementary and secondary school work: the problem is that students are 'memorizing scraps of knowledge, fragments of so-called science.' And we agree with him when he emphasizes reading and writing. Through reading and writing, even school lessons will become something 'to delight in.' Of course, learning to write comes from reading. Nobody can write well who doesn't read much. In the April 16, 1903 issue of Education, Sir Philip Magnus says this about schools of the future: 'We'll no longer require students to learn scraps of history, geography and grammar by rote memory. We won't teach them mere fragments of so-called science. Instead, the daily hours set aside for these subjects will be applied to creating mental aptitudes, and used to show students how to get knowledge for themselves . . . In the future, education's main function will be to train the hands, senses and intellectual capabilities so that students will have an advantage in seeking knowledge . . . The extent of the lessons will be broadened. Children will be taught to read in order that they'll want to read. They'll be taught to write in order that they'll want to write. The teacher's goal will be to create in his students a desire for knowledge, and, as a result, a love for reading. And, with proper selection of lessons, teachers will cultivate in their students the enjoyment that reading can bring. The main component of reading lessons will be to show the students how to use books, how books can be consulted to find out what other people have said or done, and how books can be read for the pleasure they provide. Storing facts in the memory has no place in elementary school . . . It isn't enough
for a child to know the mechanics of writing. He needs to know what to write. He needs to learn to describe what he's seen or heard clearly, and to transfer his sense-impressions to written language, and to express his own thoughts concisely.'
I'd like to add one more thing to Sir Philip Magnus's vision. I'd like to emphasize the habit of reading as something that's important for students to acquire from school. After all, it's only those who have read who do read.
Regarding curriculum, I'd like to emphasize what I said in an earlier chapter. Perhaps the main part of a child's education should be concerned with the great human relationships--history, literature, art, ancient and modern languages, travel. All of these are the records or expressions of people. Science is, too, when it's the history of discoveries or an account of someone's observations that can be read in books. But, for the most part, science is under the category of Education by Things. Science is actually too broad a subject to deal with here. But what's more important than all of these is Religion, which includes our relationships of love, loyalty, love and service to God. Maybe next in importance is the intimate, individual relationship with ourselves that's implied when we talk about things like self-knowledge and self-control. We owe children these kinds of knowledge because it seems to be the case that the limit of human intelligence directly corresponds to how limited a person's interests are. In other words, a normal person with deficient, narrow intelligence is that way because he was never exposed to the interests that were proper for him. A curriculum that provides what children have a right to can be divided into six to eight groups: religion, perhaps philosophy, history, languages, math, science, art, physical exercise, and handicrafts.
In teaching Religion, the Bible is without question what we need to rely on because it's the great storehouse of spiritual truth and moral impressions. In fact, a child could receive a pretty generous education from reading nothing but the Bible because the Bible contains such great literature within itself.
At one time, the 'National Schools' educated their students on the Bible, which is one of the three great collections of ancient classical literature. Ever since miscellaneous 'Readers' have replaced the Bible, there's been some decline in both character and intelligence in our nation. It's not possible or even desirable to revert back to what they used to do, but we should make sure that children get as much intellectual, moral and religious nourishment from their books as they did when their lessons were constructed entirely from the story of Joseph in Genesis to the letters of St. Paul.
In history, students aged twelve to fourteen should have a pretty thorough knowledge of British history, contemporary French history, and Greek and Roman history. They should get their Greek and Roman history from biographies. Perhaps nothing else besides the Bible is as educational as Plutarch's Lives. The wasteful mistake that's made so often in teaching English history is in having children from about nine to fourteen read through several short abridgments beginning with Little Arthur's History of England [by Maria Callcott]. But their intelligence at those ages is sufficient to steadily work through a single more substantial book.
By age twelve, children should have a good understanding of English grammar, and they should have read some literature. They should have some ability to speak and understand French, and they should
be able to read an easy French book. They should have similar abilities with German, but with considerably less progress. In Latin, they should at least be reading 'Fables,' if not 'Caesar' and possibly 'Virgil.'
I don't need to discuss mathematics. It already receives enough attention, and is quickly becoming a subject that's taught with living methods.
As far as practical instruction in subjects like Science, Drawing, Manual and Physical Training, etc., I can't do any more than repeat our convictions again. The PNEU believes that children in all social classes have a right to be educated in all of these four subjects. For students under twelve, the same general curriculum should be fine for all of the children. I don't have anything to add to the way these subjects are taught, which is pretty widely accepted by everyone.
In Science, or, actually, nature study, we place a high priority on recognition. We believe that the ability to recognize and know the name of a plant or rock or constellation requires some classifying, and includes a good bit of knowledge. To know a plant by the way it grows, where it lives, when and how it flowers and bears seeds, or to know a bird by the way it flies, its song, and when it arrives and leaves, to know when you might find a robin or a thrush, takes a lot of focused observation and the kind of knowledge that helps understand science. Students keep a dated record of what they see in their nature notebooks. They're allowed to manage these notebooks however they want; the books aren't graded or corrected. They take pride and pleasure in these notebooks and freely illustrate them with dry-brush work paintings of twigs, flowers, insects, etc. The knowledge
it takes to make these nature records isn't taught from formal school lessons. One afternoon a week, the students in our 'Practicing School' [taught by the student teachers at Charlotte Mason's teacher's college] go for a 'nature walk' with their teacher. They notice things by themselves, and the teacher tells them the name or gives other information only if they ask for it. It's surprising how much knowledge about different things a child can gain by the time he's nine or ten years old. The teachers are careful not to turn these nature walks into an opportunity to give science lessons, because they want the children's attention to be focused on their own observations. They're allowed to notice things with very little direction from the teacher. By doing this, children accumulate a good collection of 'common knowledge.' Huxley thought that this kind of general knowledge should come before formal science teaching. Even more important, students learn to know and take pleasure in objects from nature like they do in the familiar faces of friends. The nature walk shouldn't be used as a chance to dispense miscellaneous tidbits of scientific facts. The study of science should be taught in an ordered sequence, and that's not possible or even desirable during a nature walk. I think that an essential aspect of any living education should be for all students of all ages to spend a half day every week throughout the entire year, outside in nature. In almost every town, there's some place where children can have the opportunity to observe the changing seasons from week to week.
Geography, geology, the sun's course through the sky, the way clouds behave, signs of the weather, everything that the open air has to offer, are utilized on these walks, but it's all casual and incidental, things are simply noticed as they happen to come up. In most areas there are probably naturalists who would be willing to help with these nature walks in one of the local schools.
This direct nature walk is supplemented with
occasional object lessons, such as the different kinds of hairs on plants, or the diversity of wings, and all the things discussed in Professor [Louis Compton] Miall's wonderful books. But we rely on books only as a subordinate supplement to outside observation. We use books by authors such as Mrs. Fisher, Mrs. Brightwen, Professor Lloyd Morgan, Professor Geikie, and, for students over fourteen, Professor Geddes and Thomson. With these books and others like them, the student is put in the position of being an original observer of biology or some other phenomena. They learn what to look for, and they make observations for themselves that are original, at least for them. They get into the right frame of mind to observe and make deductions, and their alert interest is awakened. We're extremely careful not to burden children's verbal memory with scientific names. They learn about pollen, antennae, and whatever, casually as these things appear to them and they need to know its name. Only those children who are curious about it should have the opportunity to see tiny structural wonders that come up in their reading or walks under a microscope. A good microscope lens is a great investment and almost indispensable in nature observation. I think there can be too much of a priority given to education by Things. Although that is tremendously valuable, a certain lack of atmosphere tends to result, as well as a tragic lack of any standard with which to make comparisons, and the principle of reverence for nature. The distinction of an education that relies only on Things and leaves out Books seems to be the kind of attitude that 'We're the only people who ever mattered!'
In pictures, we avoid mechanical aids like grids and directional lines. We don't use
black lead pencils because they tend to encourage the copying of lines instead of the free rendering of objects. Children tend to always work in the round, whether they're using charcoal or drybrush. They also illustrate stories and poems, which aren't usually impressive as far as drawing skill goes, and don't lend themselves to art instruction. Still, they're useful exercises.
We believe that our picture talks have a lot of value. A reproduction of an appropriate picture, perhaps by Millet, is put into the children's hands, and they study it by themselves. Then, children from ages six to nine describe the picture, giving all the details and showing with a few lines on the blackboard where a certain tree or house is, seeing if they can guess what time of day the picture depicts, and discovering the story of the picture if there is one. Older children can also study some of the lines of the composition, light and shade, the particular style of the artist, and draw certain details from memory. The purpose of these lessons is to help students appreciate art, not to create it themselves.
I don't have enough space to go into more detail about a curriculum; you can see curriculum more fully illustrated in the appendix.
Since a half dozen entire groups of subjects with their own sets of subjects are included under the heading of 'Education by Books,' any practical teacher might be tempted to laugh because it seems to be some kind of educational Utopia. But, in practice, it turns out that using books does make the school day shorter. In our Parents' Review School, all book-work, writing, preparation or reporting is done between the hours of 9:00 to 11:30 for the lowest class, and 9:00 to 1:00 for the highest, with a half hour break for exercise/drill, etc.
Then one or two hours, depending on the age and class, are spent in the afternoons with handicrafts, nature observation (field work), drawing, etc. The evenings are absolutely free so that the students have time for hobbies, reading with their families, and other leisure activities. Since children taught this way get into the habit of focusing close attention, and are carried along in their schoolwork because it's so interesting, we're able to get through a greater number of subjects, and do a more thorough job covering each subject, and in a shorter amount of time than is usually allowed.
I'm inclined to say the same thing about utilitarian education that Mr. Lecky [probably William Edward Hartpole Lecky] says about utilitarian morals,
that 'the Utilitarian theory is extremely immoral.' Deliberately educating children for a specific purpose, such as qualifying them for commercial work or manufacturing, is making general ignorance a priority in order to favor special skills. 'The greater includes the less, but the less doesn't include the greater.' A person who's been educated to have good character and general intelligence can do any kind of work excellently, and we teachers can't do anything more noble for the nation than preparing these kinds of people to serve the country. Anyone who has intelligent relationships with life will produce good work.
Throughout this book, I've talked about relationships, and not interests. Interests can be casual, unworthy and fleeting. Everyone, even the most ignorant person, has interests of one kind or another. But creating a valid relationship implies that some knowledge has begun in that area. The problem with the way we think about education is that we don't realize that knowledge is vital. Therefore both adults and children suffer from malnourished minds. Our intellectual void is undoubtedly partly due to the fact that educational theorists use organized methods that undervalue real knowledge. I think that these kinds of theorists tend to place more importance on the physical workings on the brain than to what comes from the brain. In other words, they think that it's more important for a child to think than it is for him to know. But I say that a child can't know without having thought, and that he can't think if he doesn't have a regular, abundant supply of various materials of knowledge. All of us know how reading a passage can stimulate us to think, wonder, and make inferences, which all result in getting us some additional knowledge.
The undervaluing of knowledge isn't a deliberate conspiracy, it isn't even realized. But the more education is perceived as a series of psychological problems, the greater the tendency will be to treat, modify, and practically eliminate knowledge. Yet that knowledge is the very air, food, exercise, and whole life of man's mind. When we provide 'education' without including abundant knowledge, we're like people striving for physical development by giving lots of exercise, but almost no food. The purpose of a child's education is supposed to be getting knowledge and delighting in knowledge. One of our prophets [Thomas Carlyle] was right when he said, 'If even one man dies ignorant when he could have had knowledge, that's tragic.'
To summarize, I believe that our efforts to provide an intellectual education fail for six reasons:
(a) The oral lesson, which, at worst, is poor twaddle, and at best is still far inferior to an organized learning of the same material by reading the right book written by an original thinker. (The right books exist in countless numbers, both old and new ones, but it takes great care to make the right selections, as well as a lot of experience understanding the rather whimsical tastes and dislikes of children.)
(b) Lectures, which are usually gathered from different books that the teacher took quick notes from, and then delivers in hasty notes that the students take notes on, and then cram for an exam. Lectures are often careful, thorough and well-illustrated--but they still aren't as educational as direct contact with the mind of an original thinker who wrote a book on the subject. We know that Arnold, Thring, and Bowen lectured very effectively, but each of them
only lectured on a few subjects, and each of their lectures was like a spring bubbling out of their well of knowledge that they had slowly gathered over time. Alas, not all of us are Arnolds or even Bowens.
(c) Text books that are condensed and compressed from one or even many bigger books. These text books fall into two categories--the dry and boring kind that only give dull data and factual details, or the easy and attractive kind that seek to entertain. I think we can safely say that neither kind of text-book has any educational value.
(d) Lazy minds that are the result of stimulating the wrong desires to motivate students to do work that they would naturally do if they were allowed to enjoy knowledge for its own sake.
(e) In elementary school, depending on graphics and illustrative objects that paralyze the mind.
(f) Also in elementary schools, using 'Readers' that, no matter how carefully they're selected, can never be as valuable as reading actual literature.
For the last twelve years, we've tried our plan of educating children with Books and Things, and, on the whole, the results are very encouraging. Even average children are happy to do their lessons. That doesn't mean they'll remember everything they learn, but, in the words of Jane Austen, they'll have had their 'imaginations warmed' in lots of different areas of knowledge.
I'd like to take a moment to warn against following blind alleys in our educational thoughts or educational methods. When it comes to education, we don't find hidden treasure by casually digging in the freeways. If evolution is true, then ideas must also have their own species and descendants, and they must follow their own laws of reproducing. An educated and thoughtful Chinese man will sometimes remove himself from the outer world
and separate himself from the ideas of other people. Then, when he feels that he's arrived at a proper state of emptiness, he'll get out his paint brushes and create from his inner consciousness. The result will be something that he's never seen or heard or even imagined--some hieroglyphic set of curves that will be attractive and impressive if he's an artist. Then he labels his disconnected creation with some arbitrary Chinese symbol, his peers accept this without question, and this art is duly hung in his Hall of Tablets. (See 'Through a Hidden Shensi,' by F. Nichols) Some of us probably know the symbol for 'happiness' in the flowing Chinese characters.
This is all very interesting, and our Western mind is ready enough to fall for this charming fancy. But I think that it gives us a key to the baffling problem of China. Here we have a vast population with some high moral qualities, sharp and sometimes profound intelligence, yet their civilization seems to have been stagnant for thousands of years. Might the reason be their tendency to chase after intellectual rabbit trails and futile blind alleys in all different directions? They don't realize that a method implies that you're working towards a specific goal, and traveling a path to get there, making progress step by step. And they don't realize that a notion only becomes a fruitful idea when it's influenced by something from outside. Their air of Divine superiority means that no one will question their casual finds, but they won't progress. They'll remain the same in everything, just as they've always been.
And this is the danger that we can fall into regarding education. We seize on the notion that children should be able to use both hands, or to draw figures on compasses without any intention, or we apply the theory of 'child study' to the mind, or latch onto the image of coagulating clumps that
we call 'apperception masses,' or any of a hundred useless intellectual rabbit trails in a hundred different directions that we hope will give us the key to education. We can see how futile these notions are if we apply the test of progress to them. Are they the way to anything? If so, to what? Out of respect for the children, let's be conservative. Let's not stake their interests on the hope that this new way or that novel idea might lead to great results if people are bold enough to try it. Yes, it's exciting to be a pioneer, but, for the children's sake, it might be safer to restrain ourselves and only take the paths that we know people have successfully taken before, or only those newer paths that offer evident, assured means of making progress towards a goal we desire. Educationalists shouldn't have their own agendas, and they shouldn't be allowed to adopt fads.
Knowledge is undoubtedly a relative term, and what a young child knows about a subject would be considered ignorance if that's all an older student knew. All the same, there is such a thing that we can define objectively as an educated child. Such a child has a solid, wide knowledge of lots of different subjects, and they all interest him. This is a child who enjoys his school lessons.
In all fairness, it's true that most children like school. They love the stimulation of school life and the social experience of friends. They're competitive and eager for reward and praise. They enjoy the hundreds of legitimate interests of school life, including the appealing personality of a particular teacher. But it's doubtful whether the love of knowledge for its own sake is much of a motivator with the young students. This is important
because, of all the wonderful motives of school life, the love of knowledge is the only one that lasts. It's the only motive that determines the level on which the student will live the rest of his life. To repeat what I've already said, my point is that all children naturally have an inborn capacity and love for knowledge. Knowledge about people and governments is best gotten from books, and children should get that knowledge for themselves out of their books.
There are hundreds of biographies that give us glimpses of children who grew up on books. And there are still probably lots of schools whose main work is studying books. It's probably this fact that keeps our great boarding schools going--to the extent that they still continue to exist, they exist on books. The best boarding school graduates are fine, decent young adults, and even the worst of them have probably benefited by having their minds touched by living ideas. Yet we all recognize that boarding schools often fail because they graduate average or slow students and place them in the world still ignorant, because the curriculum was too narrow to be of any interest to them. Remember that if a student leaves school at age 17 or 18 and hasn't become a diligent reader by then, it's pretty certain that he'll never become a reader. But it's possible that the most essential step in reforming schools is proper preparation upon a broad curriculum, handled intelligently, while the student is between the ages of six and twelve.
I've added appendices to demonstrate (a) how a wide, varied curriculum and the use of lots of books work in the Parents' Review School; (b) the kind of progress that a student should have made by age twelve
using this method; and (c) how we use oral lessons. I hope my readers will be convinced that the students have knowledge in several fields of study, that they manifest a distinct appetite for such knowledge, and that thought and mental ability develop as we read books in a way that doesn't happen with lectures. If my readers are indeed convinced of the truth of what I've proposed, I think they'll see more than a minor reform here and there. I think that this is nothing less than an EDUCATIONAL REVOLUTION--and each of us can have a hand it.
I think I've justified my suggestions with experience. My plea is for lots of doors to be opened to children until they're at least twelve or fourteen--and all doors to good houses, in the sense that [Hippolyte] Taine wrote that 'Education is merely a written invitation to privileged and noble homes.' And children should never be introduced to any subjects via concise summaries, outlines or selections. They should learn what history is, and what literature is, and what life is, from living books written by those who know. I know it's possible because it's being done right now on an impressive scale.
If we're convicted, then the Magna Carta of children's intellectual freedom is at hand. We need it now, and the way to do it is clear. At the very least, we should guarantee that children up to the age of twelve should be educated using a curriculum similar to what I've been talking about, instilling a habit of Books that I've discussed. (It's very encouraging that the Board of Education's new regulations for primary and secondary schools go along with the suggestions in this book.)
Chapter 1. Submission and Authority in the Home and in the School, Part I.
1. In what ways are relationships between children and their parents
better than they were a generation or two ago?
2. Describe the elder generation of parents.
3. What about 'ill guided' homes?
4. Give an example of absolute authority. Name some notable men who
grew up under such rule.
5. Compare the arbitrary parent now with the arbitrary parent of the
past.
6. Was arbitrary rule always a failure?
7. What thought should encourage us in our own efforts?
8. Explain how arbitrary rule was needed because of limitations.
9. Explain how it is one cause of the secretive nature of children.
10. In what way has the evolution of philosophic thinking changed the
relationship between parents and children?
11. What effect has the concept of Infallible Reason had on
authority?
12. Explain how English thought elevates the concept of Reason.
13. What is the final justification for authority?
14. Why is the enthronement of human reason the dethronement of the
highest authority?
15. Explain how the spreading of an idea is as 'quick as thought.'
16. Why has the notion of the finality of human reason become
intolerable?
17. On what grounds are authority and submission fundamental principles?
18. Explain why self-interest does not adequately explain the response
of submission to authority.
19. Explain why the work of the rationalistic philosophers was
inevitable.
20. Explain how they support the concept of human freedom.
21. Describe the method in which the education of the world seems to be
carried on.
22. Show the danger of the notion that authority is vested in persons.
23. Explain how a person in authority is under authority.
Chapter 2. Submission and Authority in the Home and in the School, Part II.--How Authority Behaves
1. Show, by example, that it's easy to make a mistake on principle.
2. Explain the difference between authority and absolute rule.
3. How does absolute rule behave?
4. Explain how it is absolute rule that assigns duties and grants
favors.
5. How does authority behave?
6. Give half-a-dozen ways in which we can distinguish the rule of
authority.
7. What are the qualities that a ruler should have?
8. What's the difference between mechanical and reasonable obedience?
9. When is mechanical obedience useful?
10. Show how actions of mechanical obedience can help a child to have
masterly
use of his body.
11. How is the person who can make himself do what he wills, trained?
12. Why is the effort of decision the greatest effort of life?
13. Show how habit spares us a lot of this stressful effort.
14. Show how the habit of obedience eases the lives of children.
15. How does authority avoid any cause of offence?
16. Explain how alert authority in the home acts as a preventive force.
17. Show how important the changing of the thoughts, or diversion, is
in helping to form habits.
18. Explain how children, also, exercise authority.
19. What question should parents ask themselves daily to help them
maintain authority?
Chapter 3. 'Masterly Inactivity'
1. Contrast our sense of responsibility with that held in the 1850's
and 1860's.
2. Explain how the change in our point of view is a sign moral progress.
3. What kind of responsibility currently presses heavily upon
thoughtful people?
4. Explain how anxiety marks every transition stage.
5. How does a sense of responsibility produce a fussy and restless
habit?
6. Why is it a good idea to adopt the concept of 'masterly
inactivity' in education?
7. What four or five ideas are included in the concept of 'masterly
inactivity'?
8. What is Wordsworth's phrase?
9. What is the first element of this attitude of mind?
10. Explain how good-naturedness is the second element.
11 Explain how self-confidence is also necessary.
12. What can mothers learn from the casual, easy attitude of some
fathers?
13. Explain how confidence in children is also an element of 'masterly
inactivity.'
14. Why do parents and teachers need to be omniscient?
15. Show why 'masterly inactivity' is necessary in bringing up a
child whose life is conditioned by 'fate' and 'free-will.'
16. What delicate balance between fate and free-will should be aimed at
for the child?
17. Show why it's important for the parent to have a sound mind within
a healthy body.
18. What can we learn from the quality that all the early painters
have bestowed upon the ideal Mother?
19. Give one or two practical suggestions for tired, over-stimulated
mothers.
20. Why is leisure necessary to a children's well-being?
21. What is the foundation of the 'masterly inactivity' we have in mind?
Chapter 4. Some of the Rights of Children as Persons
1. Why should children be free in their play?
2. In what respect are organised sports not really play?
3. Why should we be careful of interfering with children's work?
4. Explain how children must succeed or fall by their own efforts.
5. Show the danger of a system of prodding.
6. How far can we count on the dutiful nature of children?
7. How far should children be free to choose their friends?
8. How far should children be free to spend their pocket-money?
9. How far should children be free to form their opinions?
10. Explain how spontaneity isn't like a native wildflower.
Chapter 5. Psychology as it Relates to Current Thinking
1. Describe the educational thought of the 1700's.
2. Explain how we, too, have had a period when we were certain and
excited about education.
3. Explain the general dissatisfaction we have now.
4. What conditions can we use to test a working psychology for our own
age?
5. Show how the sacredness of the person is one of the
living concepts of the age that we're being brought up on.
6. Why do we feel justified in expecting an education to make the most
of a person?
7. How is 'the solidarity of the race' to be dealt with in education?
8. Explain how the best thought of any age is common thought.
9. Discuss Locke's States of Consciousness.
10. Explain how this theory does not provide for the personal growth of
individuals.
11. How does modern physiological psychology compare with Locke's
theory?
12. How does Professor James define physiological psychology?
13. Explain how this definition makes the production of thought, etc.,
purely chemical.
14. Why is this assumption 'unjustifiable materialism'?
15. What is Professor James' conclusion about what is called the
'new psychology'?
16. Explain why a psychology that eliminates personality
is depressing and devitalising.
17. How can we tell when the 'new psychology'
has become part of our faith?
18. Explain how this 'new psychology' is inadequate, unnecessary, and
out of harmony.
19. At what point does it impede the personal growth of the individual?
Chapter 6. Examining Some Educational Theories
1. What do we owe to the theories of Pestalozzi and Froebel?
2. What is the source of weakness in their theories?
3. Compare 'make children happy and they will be good' with 'be good
and you will be happy.'
4. Show the fundamental error of regarding man as merely part of the
Cosmos.
5. Explain how the struggle for existence is a part of life, even for a
child.
6. Explain how any sort of transition violates the principles of unity
and
continuity.
7. Why is the Herbartian theory so tempting?
8. Explain how this theory treats the person as an effect, and not a
cause.
9. Explain how the role of education is overrated by this theory.
10. Explain how this system of psychology is not in harmony with
current
thought in three specific ways.
11. Explain how educational truth is a common possession, owned by
everyone.
12. What are the characteristics of a child who is being effectively
educated?
13. What, roughly speaking, is meant by the word 'person'?
14. Show how a person is like Wordsworth's 'cloud.'
15. Describe an adequate doctrine of education.
16. Show how an adequate doctrine of education is in touch with the
three great ideas which are currently in people's minds.
17. What would you say about personal influence in education?
18. What is implied by, Education is the Science of Relationships?
19. Why must teaching not be pushy?
20. What attitude on the teacher's part results from accepting the
child as a person?
Chapter 7. An Adequate Educational Theory
1. Give a basic definition of a human being.
2. What are man's capacities?
3. What are his limitations?
4. What are the two functions of a human being related to his education?
5. What physical process does education depend on?
6. What do we know, or can we guess, about the behavior of ideas?
7. What appears to be the origin of ideas?
8. Why do different ideas appeal to different minds? Give an
illustration.
9. Do we have any reason to believe that an idea is able to make a
physical
impression on the brain?
10. Mention some of the reflex actions we have when an idea strikes us.
11. How does spirit correspond with spirit, whether it's human or
divine?
12. Is a child born equipped with ideas?
13. What is the field that's open to the educationalist?
14. What can we learn from the story of the
'Child of Nuremberg'?
15. What does nature, unassisted, do for a child?
16. Explain how the normal child has every ability he'll ever need.
17. How much does fulness of living depend on establishing
relationships?
18. Explain how our common way of teaching subjects like science
damages a natural affinity.
19. Why should a child be taught to recognise the natural things around
him?
20. How can we help him to appreciate beauty?
21. Why should he start with a first-hand knowledge of science?
22. Explain how appreciation and exact knowledge each has its
appropriate season.
Chapter 8. Certain Relationships that are Proper for Children
1. How long would you give a child to initiate the range of
relationships that are appropriate for him?
2. What dynamic relationships should he have?
3. What power over material resources should he have?
4. Explain how he should have intimacy with animals.
5. What range of subjects belong to the great human relationships?
6. Give an example of the awakening idea and its outcome.
7. Explain how intelligence is limited to human interests.
8. What would happen if we fully accepted children as persons?
9. What effect has current psychology had on the sense of
duty?
10. Explain how children used to get a pretty thorough ethics education.
11. What is the case now?
12. Explain how 'my duty towards my neighbor' is the only sound basis
for moral relationships.
13. Does the sense of what is due from us come instinctively?
14. Why should a child learn something about self-management?
15. Why should children have intimacy with people from all walks of
life?
16. How can their capability as citizens be helped?
17. What are the three groups of relationships that a child needs to
establish?
18. Which is the most important of these?
19. Explain how emotional religious sentiments don't fulfill our 'duty
towards God.'
20. What's the difference between sentiment and duty?
Chapter 9. A Review of A Great Educationalist
1. Show how Herbartian theory has more influence than
any other in Europe.
2. Explain how we, like Herbart, discard the concept of 'faculties.'
3. What does Herbart say about the persuasiveness of dominant ideas?
4. In what ways do we, too, recognise the influence of the Zeitgeist?
5. How does Herbart define the child's schoolmasters?
6. Explain how we agree with him in realizing the place of the family.
7. What does Herbart say about the child in the family?
8. Explain how we agree that all education springs from and rests
upon our relationship to God.
9. Why should we not divide education into religious and secular?
10. What doctrine of the medieval Church do we hold regarding
'secular subjects'?
11. On what, according to Herbart, does the welfare, civilization,
and culture of a people depend?
12. Discuss the uncertainty that exists about the purpose of
education.
13. Should we follow Rousseau, Basedow, Locke, Pestalozzi, Froebel, in
our attempts to fix the purpose of education?
14. Show, according to Dr Rein, why not, in each case.
15. Explain how Herbart's theory is ethical, like ours is.
16. What did Herbart say about the obscurity of psychology?
17. But we have two shining principles. What are they?
18. What is probably the root problem with Herbart's educational
philosophy?
Chapter 10. Some Aspects of Physical Training That We Don't Usually Consider
1. Why doesn't our physical training tend to create heroes?
2. What is the goal of physical training?
3. Explain how this implies the idea of vocation.
4. What principle should temper excess, whether in work or pleasure?
5. Should parents bring up their children with unnecessary hardships?
Why not?
6. Write a short essay about each of the points brought up for
consideration.
7. Show how large a role habit plays in physical training.
8. Prove that self-restraint is a habit.
9. Show the danger of the excessive exercises that lead to indulgence.
10. How can self-control in a crisis become a trained habit?
11. What can you say about the physical signs of mental states?
12. Explain how discipline needs to become self-discipline.
13. What is the role of parents during school vacations regarding
school
discipline?
14. How do 'local habits' demonstrate the necessity for self-discipline
in
even a young child?
15. Show how alertness needs to be trained as a physical habit.
16. Show how quick perception is not so much a gift, as a habit.
17. Write short essays on each of the habits discussed here.
18. Show the value of inspiring ideas in initiating habits.
19. How could you use the idea of 'fortitude' in education?
20. How could you use the idea of 'service'?
21. How could you use the idea of 'courage'?
22. How could you use the idea of 'caution' as related to the duty of
health?
23. What is the highest inspirational impulse towards purity that we
can have?
24 Write short essays on the virtues mentioned.
Chapter 11. Some Aspects of Intellectual Training That We Don't Usually Consider
1. Explain how we are somewhat law-abiding in physical and moral
matters.
2. Explain how we are not so law-abiding in intellectual matters.
3. What are the three ultimate facts that are not open to question?
4. Explain how one or other of the three is always a matter of debate.
5. What three attitudes/thoughts do we gain when we realise that
God is, self is, and the world is?
6. Why is it necessary to recognize the limitations of our reason?
7. Describe the involuntary action of reason.
8. Show, using examples, (a) what the function of reason is, and (b) what
the function of reason is not.
9. Show, using examples, that wars, persecutions, and family feuds are
due
to the notion that whatever reason 'proves' is right and true.
10. Why should a child recognize the limitations of his own reason?
11. What mistake is commonly made regarding intellect and knowledge?
12. Explain how the world is educated by knowledge given 'in meals.'
13. How would you characterize our own era regarding the knowledge
given to us?
14. How did the medieval Church recognize the divine origin of
knowledge?
15. Why is nothing as practical as a great idea?
16. Show the importance of forming intellectual habits.
17. Explain how we put blind trust in disciplined subjects to
form intellectual habits.
18. Name and describe half a dozen intellectual habits that a child
should be trained in.
19. Explain how progress in the intellectual life, as in the Christian
life,
depends upon meditation.
20. Explain how a child must have the daily sustenance of living ideas.
How
do we err in this respect?
21. Comment on the literature that's appropriate for children.
22. Show how the intellectual development of children
is independent.
23. By what law do children assimilate nourishing ideas?
24. What, then, is the role of parents and teachers?
25. What mistake do parents make that is often fatal to growth?
26. Write a few comments on each of the subjects suggested regarding
the intellectual life of children.
27. What was Plato's educational aim?
Chapter 12. Some Aspects of Moral Training That We Don't Usually Consider
1. What the three principles underlie the educational thought of the
PNEU?
2. Which principle is universally acknowledged as the foundation of
moral
teaching?
3. How does authority work?
4. 'Every man is his own final authority about what's right
and wrong.' Discuss this fallacy.
5. What are the limitations of authority?
6. What is the consequence of arbitrary action?
7. What idea that's been disputed for two thousand years is now
influencing the way teachers teach morals?
8. Explain how Socrates had to contend with the same concept, only
expressed differently.
9. What is the inevitable result of this teaching?
10. How should children be taught that duty can exist only as what
we owe to God?
11. Explain how morals do not come naturally.
12. Explain how a certain makeshift morality does come by heredity and
environment.
13. How do we get an educated conscience?
14. Explain how children aren't born moral nor immoral.
15. Show the danger of erratic, impulsive efforts to teach morals.
16. Where should we look for the foundation of our moral teaching?
17. What do the poets say to help us regarding moral teaching?
18. How did the medieval Church provide object lessons to teach ethics?
19. How do we fail in this respect?
20. Why should children have the inspiration of high ideals?
21. Show the value of biographies in the inspiration of high ideals.
22. Name any virtues that the poets inspire us with.
23. Make a suggestion regarding the collection of mottoes.
24. How can parents and teachers help children develop the habit of
thinking pleasant
thoughts?
25. Name and discuss some of the virtues that children should be
trained to have.
26. Distinguish the difference between 'being good' and loving God.
Chapter 13. Some Aspects of Religious Training That We Don't Usually Consider
1. Show how the principle of authority influences religious teaching.
2. What ideas do the children of our day especially need to be
brought up in?
3. How do certain questions on people's minds diminish the sense of
authority?
4. In what ways does authority work like a fair, good
government?
5. Discuss authority in connection with punishment.
6. Discuss each of the various habits connected with the
subject of authority in the religious life.
7. Explain how lines of habit are as important for the religious as
they are for
the physical, moral, and intellectual life.
8. How would you try to keep a child in the habit of the thinking about
God?
9. Discuss the subject of reverent attitudes.
10. How would you use, 'because the angels
will see' to help develop reverent attitudes?
11. Show the importance of regular times and places in children's
prayers.
12. Why shouldn't evening prayers be left till bedtime?
13. What is to be said about little compilations of devotional
Scriptures?
14. Show the danger of neglecting the narrative teaching of the
Scriptures.
15. Why shouldn't children be encouraged to read long passages or pray
long prayers?
16. How should the habit of praise be fostered?
17. Show the value of the habit of observing the Sabbath, and describe
how a child's Sunday might be kept.
18. Write your reflections on each of the themes suggested related to
the habits of the religious life.
19. Show the importance of being selective about the inspiring ideas we
aspire to
give children in the things of the Divine life.
20. What other point demands our consideration?
21. What vitalizing idea is the most important to teach
children?
22. How should we teach children that the essence of Christianity is
devotion to a Person?
23. Why do children need to learn that there is a Savior of
the world?
24. What teaching would you give children about the work of the Holy
Spirit?
Chapter 14. A Master-Thought
1. What is the motto of the Parents' Union?
2. Explain how this motto is a master-thought.
3. Why is 'education is an atmosphere' the part of the motto that
naturally appeals to us the most?
4. What happens if this part is taken for the whole?
5. What defect in education leads to boredom and the desire for passive
entertainment?
6. What was the unconscious formula of the 1700's?
7. What was the result of this one-sided perspective of education?
8. Explain how the concept of developing faculties also rests on a
one-sided notion.
9. What is the tendency of an education whose foundation is the
development
of faculties?
10. Should it be our goal to produce specialists? Why not?
11. Show what kind of education develops a sound, well-balanced
mind.
12. Explain how the medieval Church understood that
'education is a life' better than we do.
13. Describe the educational philosophy illustrated on the
walls of the 'Spanish Chapel' of S. Maria Novella.
14. Explain how this educational creed unifies life.
15. What does Coleridge say about the origin of great ideas about
nature?
16. What did Michelangelo write to his friend about the need for a diet
of great ideas?
17. What is the special teaching approved for us today?
18. What views do people tend to take regarding to this subject?
19. What does Huxley say about ideas in science?
20. How does the teaching illustrated on the
walls of the 'Spanish Chapel' of S. Maria Novella, and Coleridge's
teaching relieve us from
anxiety and clear up our confusion?
21. How does Coleridge describe the science of Botany in his
day?
22. What has evolution, the key-word of our age, done for this and
other confusions?
23. But what have philosophers been seeking for
three thousand years?
24 How did Herakleitos attempt to solve the problem?
25. How did Demokritos attempt to solve the problem?
26. Explain how some familiarity with history and philosophy should
make us stop and think regarding the key that evolution claims to
provide.
27. Explain how personality remains, and is not resolved by this key.
28. Why is it necessary for parents and teachers to consider their
attitude towards evolution?
29. What are the four attitudes that people take up?
30. What benefits will the children gain if their teachers adopt the
last of these attitudes?
31. What two things depend on us regarding the great
ideas that are influencing what the world is being taught?
32. Show the danger of making education too much of a personal matter.
33. If education is a world concern, explain how we need to have a
guiding
idea about it.
34. What ideas should regulate the curriculum of a student under
fourteen?
35. Show the importance of really good books, and lots of them, for
children to use.
36. Why shouldn't we arbitrarily choose or reject certain subjects?
Chapter 15. School Books and How They Bring About Education
1. What ideas do we get from the incident quoted from Frederika
Bremer's 1837 novel, The Neighbors?
2. What kind of books sustains the life of thought?
3. What can you say about publishers' textbooks?
4. Why do intelligent teachers rely on oral lessons?
5. What are some of the disadvantages of oral lessons?
6. What questions should we ask about a student who has completed his
education?
7. Where does the error of our educational system lie?
8. Explain how we don't appreciate children, and therefore educate them
incorrectly.
9. What was notable about home-life in the previous generation?
10. How would you describe children as they are?
11. Explain how our job is to give them enlivening ideas.
Chapter 16. How to Use School Books
1. What question do we need to ask about any school subject?
2. What are disciplinary subjects?
3. What danger is connected to blindly using these?
4. What idea should provide an 'open sesame' to many vitalizing
subjects?
5. Show how the Bible is the great source of moral
impressions.
6. What impressions did De Quincey get from his early Bible
readings?
7. In what ways did the formal liturgy appeal to him?
8. Why should a child dig for his own knowledge?
9. What are the uses of oral lessons and lectures?
10. Why should children use living books for themselves?
11. What is the sign of a suitable book?
12. How will we know if children enjoy a book?
13. What is the teacher's role regarding teaching with books?
14. In what ways can children work from their books?
15. What is the simplest way of dealing with a paragraph or chapter?
16. Why should the lesson consist of a single careful reading?
17. Mention some other ways of using books.
18. What disciplined devices can children use in their studies?
19. What does the teacher do to prepare a lesson?
20. What is the danger of too many disciplinary devices?
21. Why are we at risk of neglecting books?
Chapter 17. Education as the Science of Relationships--We are Educated by Our Intimacies (Part I)
1. What are our three educational tools, and why are we limited
to these?
2. Why may we not violate the personality of children?
3. In what ways do we manage life too much for children?
4. What example of fairy tales serving as a screen and shelter does
Wordsworth give us in The Prelude?
5. What can you say about the spontaneous living of children?
6. What does fullness of life depend on?
7. Distinguish between the relationship of ideas to ideas, and the
relationship
of people to the ideas suitable for them.
8. Explain how the goal of education isn't to make something out of the
child, but to put the child in touch with everything that concerns him.
9. Describe the self-education of an infant. What does Wordsworth tell
us about this?
10. What is our role in the infant's education?
11. What is our common mistake, and what are the results?
12. What's the difference between business and desire?
13. What attempts were made to teach Ruskin horseback riding, and what
does he
think about those attempts?
14. What accusation does he bring against the limitations of his
situation?
15. Why should parents, especially those who live in the suburbs, learn
a lesson from Præterita?
16. List Wordsworth's opportunities to form dynamic relationships.
17. Explain how these came about naturally in the course of things.
Chapter 18. We are Educated by Our Intimacies (Part II)--More Affinities
1. What chances did Ruskin have to learn to handle material resources?
2. What do we hear about the intimacy of either boy regarding natural
objects?
3. Describe Ruskin's flower studies.
4. Describe Ruskin's pebble studies.
5. Explain how these became a life-shaping intimacy.
6. What books did Ruskin grow up on?
7. What is the first mention we get of his insatiable delight in a book?
8. What qualities in Byron delighted him?
9. Describe Wordsworth's delight in the Arabian Nights.
10. What is Wordsworth's plea for 'adventure' in education?
11. What does he say about the freedom to roam freely among books?
12. Describe Wordsworth's first enthralment with poetry.
13. Explain how Ruskin's historic sense always seems to be connected
with places.
14 How does he demonstrate some lack of living touch with the past?
15. Explain how Wordsworth, too, was aloof.
16. Explain how the knowledge 'learned in schools' didn't lay much hold
on
either boy.
17. Compare the experiences of the two boys regarding friendship
opportunities.
Chapter 19. We Are Educated by Our Intimacies (Part III)--Vocation
1. Describe Turner's 'call' to Ruskin.
2. What does Ruskin consider his first sincere drawing?
3. What does he say about his real initiation?
4. What is the first hint we get of nature as a passion?
5. How does Wordsworth trace the beginnings of his passion with nature?
6. Describe Wordsworth's 'calling.'
7. How does Wordsworth describe the education of the little snob of his
days?
8. Explain how the child snob is the child who is the end and goal of
his
own education.
9. Mention a few of the areas in which children have affinities.
10. Show from the example of Waverley
the danger of an aimless
education.
11. How does Mr. Ruskin express the concept that 'the child is father
to the man'?
12. Explain how strenuous effort and respect are conditions of
education.
13. Explain how having buddies has its responsibilities.
14. Why should children have a steady, unruffled routine of work?
15. Describe from Brother Lawrence one way in which the highest
relationship can be initiated.
16. What does Browning say about this relationship?
Chapter 20. Suggestions Regarding Curriculum for Children Under Fourteen (Part I)
1. Give a short summary of the preceding chapters.
2. Comment on the educational methods of today.
3. What two conditions are necessary to any sound reform?
4. Why do so many students leave school without any real interests?
5. How does H.C. Benson characterize the goals of boarding
school teachers?
6. How can we characterize the minds of children?
7. Show the practical working out of this perspective.
8. What's the difference between knowledge and information?
9. In what ways do children show that they have power to deal with
knowledge?
10. What do stereotyped phrases and mangled notes in children's work
indicate?
11. Give an analogy between knowledge and food.
12. Why is a hunger for good grades the sign of a debased, ruined mind?
13. Why shouldn't abridged synopses and condensed compilations be
allowed for children's
use?
14. What are the advantages of working through a substantial book?
Chapter 21. Suggestions Regarding Curriculum for Children Under Twelve (Part II)--School Books
1. Who must, in the end, decide upon the right school-books?
2. What are the relative places of lecture and book?
3. Show the danger of elaborate appliances.
4. Upon what principle should studies be co-ordinated?
5. What results of education should we look for in a young person
leaving school?
6. Explain how the worth of education by things is now fully recognised.
7. What habit should we look for as a chief acquirement of school-life?
8. Give a rough classification of the subjects in which knowledge is
due to children.
9. Show the importance of the Bible as a means of education.
10. What knowledge of history should boys and girls of twelve to
fourteen have?
11. What mistake is commonly made in teaching this subject?
12. What knowledge of languages should they have?
13. What should we aim at in the early teaching of science?
14. What least amount of time in the open is absolutely essential in a
living education?
15. What is the use of books in nature-teaching?
16. Name a few useful books.
17. What do you understand by 'picture-talks'?
Chapter 22. Suggestions Regarding Curriculum for Children Under Twelve (Part III)-- The Love of Knowledge
1. How does the use of books make school hours shorter?
2. What's so bad about a utilitarian education?
3. What's the difference between relationships and interests?
4. Explain how the tendency of present-day education is to undervalue
knowledge.
5. What are some reasons for the failure of our intellectual
educational efforts?
6. What is the danger that we can fall into regarding education when we
pursue intellectual
futilities?
7. What test can help us distinguish a fad from an educational method?
8. Our goal is to produce an educated child. How is an educated child
recognised?
9. Children enjoy school for many reasons. Which of these is the
only valid motive?
10. What change in our educational methods will ensure the children's
educational Magna Carta?
The Parents' Review School, a product of the Parents Union, was mostly designed to bring home schools tutored by governesses, up to the same standard as other schools. A Training College for governesses, with an Intern School, etc., was established later. Children less than six years old are not allowed to enter the School because we think that the first six years of life are needed for physical growth and the kind of self-education that children do without any help from us. The Parents' Review School is conducted using programme/schedules of lessons, in five classes, which are sent out each term, to each of the home schools (and to some other schools). The same programme/schedules are used in the Intern School. Exams are made up at the end of each term.
The work is organized using the principles that I've outlined in this volume: a broad curriculum, a considerable number of books for each child in the different classes, and, in addition to books, a couple of hours' work daily, not with Books but with Things. Many of the students in the school have absorbed the education of their parents, but the children of
uneducated parents take to this sort of work with the same readiness and similar results. I think this kind of education is suited, not only for the clever, but for the average and even the challenged child.
Class Ia.--Six year olds go into Class Ia. (first grade); they work for 2 1/2 hours a day, but half an hour of this time is spent in exercises and games. Including drill exercises, they have thirteen 'subjects,', and a total of about sixteen books are used. They recite hymns, poems, and Bible verses; work from Sonnenschein and Nesbitt's ABC Arithmetic; sing French and English songs; begin Mrs Curwen's Child Pianist, learn to write cursive and to print, learn to read, learn to understand and speak French, do brush-drawing and various handicrafts. All these things are done cheerfully, but can't be illustrated here. Bible lessons, read directly from the Bible; tales, nature science, and geography are taught from assigned books and supplemented with the child's own observation.
Our plan for each subject is to read the child the passage for the lesson (a good long passage), talk about it a little, avoiding too much explanation, and then let him narrate what has been read. He does this very well and with pleasure, and is often happy to catch the style as well as the words of the author.
Certain pages, maybe 40 or 50, from each of the children's books are assigned for each term's reading. At the end of the term, an exam paper is sent out containing one or two questions from each book. Here are a few of the answers. The children in the first two classes narrate their answers, and an adult writes down as they dictate. [Note: children's answers are not paraphrased, but have been left intact.]
Q. Tell the story of Naaman.
A. (aged 6 3/4):--
"Naaman had something the matter with him, and his master sent a letter to the King of Israel, and the king was very unhappy and did not know what to do because he thought that he wanted to come and fight against him, and he rent his clothes. And he said, 'I can't cure him,' so he sent him to Elisha, and he
told him to take a lot of presents and a lot of things with him. And when Naaman came to Elisha's door, Elisha sent Gehazi to tell him to dip himself seven times in the waters of Jordan, and he said to himself, 'I surely thought he would have come out, and I thought a lot of people would come out and make a fuss'; and he went back in a rage. And his servant said to him, 'Why didn't you go?' And he said, 'My rivers are much the best.' So his servants said, 'If he had asked you to do some great thing, wouldst thou have done it?' So he went and dipped himself seven times in the water, and when he came out he was quite all right again. And when he was coming home they saw Gehazi coming, so Naaman told them to stop the horses, and so they stopped, and Gehazi said, 'There are some people come to see me, please give me some money and some cloaks,' and they were very heavy, so Naaman sent some of his men to carry them, and when he came near the house he said to his servants, 'You can go now.' Elisha said, 'Because you have done this you shall have the leprosy that Naaman had.'"
Q. Tell a fairy story.
B. (aged 6 3/4):--
"When Ulysses was coming back from Troy he passed the Sirens. He could hear them, but he couldn't get to them, because he was bound. He wanted to get to them so as he could listen to them a long time, because a lot of people had come and listened to them, and they found it so beautiful that they wanted to stay there, and they stayed till they died. His companions couldn't hear them because they stopped up their ears with wax and cotton-wool. And this was the song they sang:--
Hither, come hither and hearken awhile,
Odysseus far-famed king,
No sailor has ever passed this way
But has paused to hear us sing.
Our song is sweeter than honey,
And he that hears it knows
What he never learnt from another,
And his joy before he goes.
We know what the heroes bore at Troy
In the ten long years of strife,
We know what happened in all the world,
And the secret things of life.'
And then they rowed on till at last the song faded away, and they rowed on and on for a long time, and then when they could not hear them nor see them, the wax was taken out of their ears, and then they unbound Ulysses."
Q. What have you noticed (yourself) about a spider?
C. (aged 7 3/4):--
"We have found out the name of one spider, and often have seen spiders under the microscope--they were all very hairy. We have often noticed a lot of spiders running about the ground--quantities. Last term we saw a spider's web up in the corner of the window with a spider sucking out the juice of a fly; and we have often touched a web to try and make the spider come out, and we never could, because she saw it wasn't a fly, before she came out.
"I saw the claw of a spider under the microscope, with its little teeth; we saw her spinnerets and her great eyes. There were the two big eyes in one row, four little ones in the next row, and two little ones in the next row. We have often found eggs of the spiders; we have some now that we have got in a little box, and we want to hatch them out, so we have put them on the mantelpiece to force them.
"Once we saw a spider on a leaf, and we tried to catch it, but we couldn't; he immediately let himself down on to the ground with a thread.
"We saw the circulation in the leg of another spider under the microscope; it looked like a little line going up and down."
Q. Gather three sorts of tree leaf-buds and two sorts of catkin, and
tell all you can about them.
D. (aged 6):--
(1) "The chestnut bud is brown and sticky, it is a sort of cotton-woolly with the leaves inside. It splits open and sends out two leaves, and the leaves split open.
(2) "The oak twig bas always a lot of buds on the top, and one bud always dies. Where the bud starts there is a little bit of knot-wood. The oak-bud is very tiny.
(3) "The lime bud has a green side and a red side, and then it bursts open and several little leaves come out and all the little things that shut up the leaves die away.
(4) "Golden catkins and silver pussy palms of a willow tree. The golden catkins have stamens with all the pollen on them. They grow upwards, and two never grow opposite to each other. The silver pussy palms have seed boxes, with a little tube growing out, and a little sticky knob on the top. The bees rub the pollen off their backs on to the sticky knob."
Q. Tell about the North-West Passage. (Book studied, The World at Home.)
E. (aged 7):--
"People in England are very fond of finding things out, and they wanted to find out the North-West Passage. If people wanted to go to the Pacific Ocean, they had to go round Africa, by the Cape of Good Hope, or else round South America by Cape Horn. This was a very long way. They thought they might find out a shorter way by going along the North Coast by America, and they would come out in the Pacific Ocean. They would call this way the North-West Passage. First one man and then another tried to find a way. They found a lot of straits and bays which they called after themselves. The enemy they met which made them turn back was the cold. It was in the frozen zone, and the sea was all ice, and the ice lumps were as big as mountains, and when they came against a ship they crashed it to pieces. Once a man named Captain Franklin tried over and over again to find the North-West Passage, and once he went and never came back again, for he got stuck fast in the ice, and the ice did not break, and he had not much food with him, and what he had was soon eaten up, and he could not get any more, for all the animals in that country had gone away, for it was winter, and he could not wait for the summer, when they would return. A ship went out from England called the Fox to look for him, but all they found was a boat, a Bible, a watch, and a pair of slippers near each other. After looking a lot they found the North-West Passage, but because there is so much ice there the ships can't use it."
Class lb.--Children in Class lb. (about second and third grade) are usually between seven and eight years old, but may be nine. They have fifteen 'subjects' and use as many as twenty-three books. The subjects that weren't able to be illustrated here are a continuation of the work in Class la. But by this time the children can usually read, and read some of their books for themselves some of their books for History, Geography, and Tales themselves. In Class lb. the children narrate their lessons and their answers to exams the same as in la. They seem to enjoy doing this. In fact, the exams at the end of each term are a pleasure. The only problem is that small children want to go on 'telling!.' Their words are taken down literally. It's hard not to be amazed by the correctness and copiousness of the language they use, but young children love words, and often surprise adults with their
free and correct use of 'dictionary words.' One also notices the spirit with which the children tell their narrationse, the orderly sequence of events, the accuracy and thoroughness of detail, and the accuracy of names. These things come natural to children until they are 'schooled' out of them.
Q. Tell all you know about St Patrick. (Book studied, Old Tales from
British History.)
A. (aged 7):--
"St Patrick was the son of a Scotch farming clergyman, and one day some Irish pirates came and took Patrick with them to make him a slave; and they sold him to an Irish nobleman. And the Irish nobleman made him a shepherd to take care of his flocks, and shepherds have a lot of time to think when they are out guarding their flocks by night. And Patrick was very sorry that the poor Irish were heathens. One day he slipped off and got into a boat with some sailors, and after a great adventure, for their food ran short, they arrived safely in Scotland. And Patrick was still thinking about the Irish, so he went off in a boat of his own, with a few followers, to Ireland. A shepherd saw them coming, and told his master the pirates were coming. So he armed his servants and went down to meet the pirates, but when he heard the errand they were on, he offered them to come into his house. Now Patrick settled in Ireland, but some heathen priests rose up against him, and a wise man said, 'What is the good of killing him? Other Irish people are now Christians, and they will teach too.' So he saved his life. And Patrick gave him the book of Psalms written by his own hand. One day Patrick asked a rich man if he might have a little plot of land on the top of a hill, but the rich man refused him, but gave him a little plot of land at the bottom of the hill. And there Patrick built a church, and a house for himself and servants to live in. Then the rich man got ill, and was just about to die, but got better, but as he thought Patrick was like a wizard, who could foretell his fortune, he thought he'd better try to please him. So he sent him a brass cauldron, enough to hold one whole sheep, and Patrick said 'I thank you, master.' The rich man was angry, and sent for the cauldron back again, and Patrick said, 'I thank you, master.' So the rich man was ashamed, and brought back the cauldron, and said he could have the little plot of land on the top of the hill. So they went up to measure it. Then a roe-deer dashed out of the thicket, but left her fawn behind her, and the men were going to kill the fawn, but Patrick took it up and carried it down the hill; the mother followed, for she saw he was doing no harm to it. On that place he built a fine church,
which is still standing. And Patrick died on a journey, and was buried at a place called Downpatrick after him."
Q. Tell what you know about Alfred Tennyson. (Book studied, Mrs
Frewen Lord's Tales from Westminster
Abbey.)
B. (aged 7 1/2):--
"Alfred Tennyson was born in 1809, and he loved the country very much. One Sunday when they were going out to chapel, except Lord Tennyson as he was very young, his brother Charles gave him his slate to write about birds and flowers, and when they came back he had filled his slate with his first poem. He and his brother used to make up stories that sometimes lasted a month. He was very shortsighted, and when he was looking at anything it looked as if he were smelling it. He had good ears, for he could hear the shriek of a bat. Alfred Tennyson wrote The Revenge and The Siege of Lucknow, and Sir John Franklin's poem:--
'Not here; the white North hath thy bones,
And thou, heroic sailor soul,
Art passing on thy happier voyage now,
Toward no earthly pole.'
And he also wrote the May Queen and Cradle Song. Because his poetry was so good the Queen gave him a name and knighted him. He says that if you tread on a daisy it will turn up and get red. He was 83 years old when he died--the year he died in was 1892. He was buried in Westminster Abbey, in Poets' Comer.'
Q. What is a hero? What heroes have you heard of? Tell about one.
C. (aged 7):--
"(1) A hero is a brave man. (2) Count Roland, Huon at Bordeaux, the Horatii and Curatii. (3) Once there was a brave Emperor called Charlemagne, and he was fighting with the heathen King of Saragossa. Just a wee bit of land was left to the heathen king, so he sent a messenger to speak about peace. They pretended that they would have peace, so they went back to Charlemagne and asked him to leave Roland behind to take charge of the mountain passes. So Charlemagne said that he would leave Roland behind because there was none so brave as him, so that when Charlemagne had turned his army they should come in great numbers to fight against Roland. And Roland stayed behind with twenty thousand men, and Oliver heard a great noise by the side of Spain, and then Oliver climbed
on a pine tree, and he saw the arms glimmering and the spears shining, and then he said to Roland that there were a full hundred thousand, and that they just had so few, and that it was much better to sound his horn and Charlemagne will turn his army. Roland said he would be mad if he did that. Oliver said again to sound his horn, and Roland said he would lose his fame in France if he did it. Then Oliver said again, 'Friend Roland, sound thy horn and Charles will hear it, and turn his army.' Then all the mountain passes were fuIl of the enemies, and when they came nearer they fought, and they fought, and they fought, and at last the Christians were falling too, and when there were only sixty left he blew his horn, Charlemagne heard it and said he must go, and Ganelon said he was just pretending, but then Charlemagne heard it fainter, and knew that it was true that he must go, and then fainter again, but Charlemagne was nearer and so heard it better. And Roland said, 'Ride as fast as you can for many men have been killed, and there are few left.' Then Charlemagne bade his men sound their horns, so that they knew that help was near and then the heathen fled away. There were just the two left, Roland and the Archbishop, and Roland said to the Archbishop that he would try to fetch the dead bodies of the braver soldiers. Then the Archbishop said to Roland, 'Quick, before I die.' Then Roland went and brought them before the Archbishop and laid them down there. Then he went and searched the field again, and under a pine tree he found Oliver's body, then he brought it too and laid it in front of the Archbishop. Then Roland fainted to the ground, then the Archbishop tried to bring some water for Roland, and he fell down and died. Then Roland put the hands over the chest of the Archbishop, then he prayed to God to give him a place in Paradise, and then he said that the field was his. Before he died he put his sword and his ivory horn under him, and laid himself down on the ground, so that Charlemagne, when he came, would know that he was the conqueror. And God sent St Michael and another saint to fetch his soul up to heaven."
Q. Gather three sorts of tree leaf-bud and two sorts of catkin and
tell all you can about them.
E. (a cottage child aged 9):--
"Beech Twig.--It has rather a woody stalk, and it is a very light grey-browny stalk, and it is very thin, and the little branches that grow out are light brown and it is thicker where the buds are and it is a lighter brown up at the top than it is at the bottom, and the buds are a light reddy-brown and very pointed, and they are scaly. The bark is rather rough and there is a lot of little kind of brown spots on it.
"Lime Twig.--It is called Ruby-budded Lime because the buds are red, and they are fat rather, and they have got some green in as well, and they come rather to a point at the top, they grow alternately and the little stalk that they grow out of is reddy-green, and the top part of the stalk is green, and it is woody, and it is rough, and it is a reddy-green at the bottom. Where the buds come out it is swelled out, the bark has come off and it has left it white and woody. At the top of one of the stalks the bud has come off.
"Sycamore Twig.--Well, the back is very woody, and it is a brown stalk and it is rough and there is a little weeny bud growing out of the side, and the buds grow out two and two, and there are a lot of little buds.
"Willow.--Well, the stalk is a dark brown, and is very smooth and it will bend very easily, and the buds when they first come on the stalk are little brown ones, and then a silvery-green comes out and there is a scale at the bottom, and then they get greyer and bigger with little green leaves at the bottom, and then it comes yellow, and there is a lot of pollen on it. If you touch it the pollen comes on your finger.
"Hazel.--Well, the stalk is a dark brown, something the colour of the willow, and it bends easily, and the buds are green and there is little scales, and then the catkins come and they grow very long, and there is a lot of little flowers in one, and there is pollen in that, and the stalk is rather rough, and there are some big buds at the top just bursting, and the leaves are coming out, and the buds are very soft and glossy, and the scales are at the bottom."
Q. What have you noticed about a thrush? Tell all you know about it.
F. (aged 8):--
"Thrushes are browny birds. They eat snails, and they take the snail in their mouths and knock it against a stone to break the shell and eat the snail. I found a stone with a lot of bits of shell round it, so knew that a thrush had been there. Where we used to live a thrush used to sing every morning on the same tree. The song of the thrush is like a nightingale. We often see a lot of thrushes on the lawn before breakfast or after a shower. They have yellow beaks and their breasts are specked with lovely yellow and brown. Once we found a thrush asleep on a sponge in a bedroom and we carried it out and put it on a tree. Thrushes eat worms as well as snails, and on the lawn they listen with their heads on one side and go along as the worm gets under the ground, and presently, perhaps, the worm comes up and they gobble it up, or they put their beaks in and
get it. Thrushes build their nests with sticks at the bottom and line them with little bits of wool they pick up, or feathers, and they like to get down very much."
Class II.--In Class II. (about 4th-7th grade) the children are between nine and twelve years old, occasionally more than twelve. They have twenty-one 'subjects,' and about twenty-five books are used. They work from 9:00 to noon each day, with half an hour's interval for games and drill exercises. Some Latin and German (optional) are added to the curriculum. In music we continue Mrs Curwen's (Child Pianist) method and Tonic Sol-fa, and learn French, German (optional), and English songs. But I can't give details of our work here. I'll have to limit myself to illustrating only seven of the subjects on the schedule/programme. Children in Class II. write or dictate, or write a part and dictate a part of their examination answers, depending on their age. The exam lasts a week, and to write all of their work would be tiring at this age. The schedule followed is that the examination in each subject ise done during the regular time for that subject on the schedule.
I'd like to say a word about the Greek and Roman History. Plutarch's Lives are read in Classes II. and III., and as children usually spend five years in these Classes II and III, they may read as many as fifteen of these Lives, which I think stand alone in literature as teaching that a man is part of the State, that his business is to be of service to the State, but that the value of his service depends on his personal character. The Lives are read to the children almost without comment, but with necessary edits. Proper names are written on the blackboard; and, at the end of the reading, children narrate the substance of the lesson. The English History book used in Classes II. and III. is extremely popular; it is Mr Arnold-Forster's (of about 800 pages), and is well known as a serious, manly, and polished treatment of English History. There is never any writing down to the children. Mrs Creighton's First History of France is also a favorite,
although I wouldn't have thought there was enough detail to make it popular. Contemporary periods of English and French History are studied term by term. For Natural History, Miss Arabella Buckley's Fairyland of Science and Life and Her Children, Mrs Brightwen's books, etc., give scientific information and inspire intelligent curiosity, while outdoor nature-study lays the foundation for science. The handiworks for Class II. are such as cardboard Sloyd, clay modelling, needlework, gardening, etc. These, field-work, piano practice, etc., are done in the afternoons or after tea.
Q. "Ah! Pericles, those that have need of a lamp, take care to
supply it with oil." Who said this? Tell the story. (Book studied,
Plutarch's Lives: Pericles.)
D. (aged 11 1/2), answer dictated:--
"Anaxagoras, the philosopher, said these words to Pericles.
"Pericles was the ruler of Athens, and Anaxagoras had taught him
when a boy. Being ruler of Athens, he led a very busy life, attending
to the affairs of State, and so was not able to give much time to his
household affairs. Once a year he collected his money, and could only
manage his income by giving out an allowance to each member of his
family and household every day: this was done by Evangelus, his steward.
Anaxagoras thought this a very wrong way of arranging matters, and said
that Pericles paid too much heed to bodily affairs, because he thought
you ought to mind only about philosophy and spiritual doings, and not
about the affairs of the world. To give an example to Pericles he gave
up all his household and tried to live entirely on philosophy. But he
soon found his mistake when he found himself starving and penniless,
with no house. So he covered his head up and prepared to die. Pericles,
hearing of this, went immediately to his rescue and begged him to live;
not because he thought death a misfortune, but that he said, 'What
shall I do without your help in the affairs of State!' And then
Anaxagoras uttered the words which are above, meaning, of course
(though putting it in a clever way), that Pericles was to keep him. On
the other hand, he might have meant that he had been mistaken in his
philosophy."
Q. Tell the history of 'F.D.' on a penny. (Book studied, Arnold-Forster's History of England.)
C. (aged 10), answer written by child:--
"The letters 'F.D.' stand for the Latin words Fidei Defensor,
meaning 'The Defender of the Faith.' Henry VIII. had a little while ago
written a book on the Pope (who was Clement VII.) saying that the Pope
was the true head of the Church, and everyone ought to obey him. The
Pope was so pleased that he made Henry Fedei Defensor. It must be
remembered that the king had married his brother Arthur's* widow, a
Spanish princess, namely, Catherine of Aragon (sic), and as they had no
son Henry wished to divorce her, but the Pope would not anow him to, as
he had given Henry special leaf (sic)
to marry her. At this Henry was
furious, and began to think about the Pope's words, 'Defender of the
Faith.' He would not act as he thought till someone suggested it. So
two men, called Cromwell and Cranmer, came forward, telling the king to
take the Pope's words, not as he meant them, but as they really were,
as they stood. The king was delighted, and made Cranmer a bishop and
Cromwell his wisest counsellor*. In 1534 Parliament* was called upon
to declare Henry head of the Church. All said he was, except two men,
Sir Thomas More and Fisher, bishop of Rochester; these would not agree,
and were executed in 1535. If we look on a penny we see the letters
'F.D.,' which shows from the
reign of Henry VIII. till now the Pope has not been allowed to
interfere with England. In order to spite the Pope, Henry allowed the
Lutherans and learned men to come into England."
* The writers have been in two minds about the
spelling of words
marked.
Q. What did you see in the Seagull
sailing up the Firth of Forth?
(Book studied, Geographical Reader,
Book II.)
G. (aged 9), answer dictated:--
"In sailing up the Forth we first of all see Leith, which is the seaport town of Edinburgh. Then we come to Edinburgh. The old and new Edinburghs are built on opposite hills, the valley in between is laid out in lovely gardens. One thing very odd about Edinburgh is that the streets look as if they are built one on top of the other. At one end of the town there is a castle which looks so like the rocks and mountains it is built on, one can hardly distinguish it. At the other end of the town there is Holyrood, where the ancient kings used to live. We do not see many merchantmen because there are no good harbours, there are a good many fishing smacks and pleasure boats. As we go along we see women with big baskets with a strap across their foreheads, and they are calling out 'caller herrings.'"
Q. "And Jonathan loved him as his own soul." Of whom was this said?
Tell a story of Jonathan's love.
E. (aged 9), answer dictated:--
"This was said of David. Saul's anger was kindled against David; and Jonathan and David were talking together, and Jonathan had been telling David that he would do anything for him, and David said, 'To-morrow is the feast of a new moon, and Saul will expect me to sit with him at the table; therefore say, 'David earnestly asked leave of me to go to Bethlehem, his city, where there is a sacrifice of his family.' If Saul is angry, then I shall know that he would kill me, but if he is not angry, it will be all right.' Jonathan said, 'So shall it be, but it will not be safe for anybody to know anything about it; come into the field, and I will tell you what to do. Thou shalt remain hidden by the stone, and I will bring a lad and my arrows and bow, and I will shoot an arrow as if firing at a target; and if I say 'Run,' to the lad, is not the arrow beyond thee? go fetch it,' then thou shalt know that thou must flee from Saul.' David's seat was empty at the feast that night, but Saul said nothing. But the next day his seat was empty, and when Saul asked why, Jonathan told him what David had asked him to say. And. Saul's anger was kindled, so much so that Jonathan feasted not that day, for he was grieved; and next morning he went out with his bow and arrows, and the lad, and shot an arrow as if at a mark. Then Jonathan said to the lad, 'Run, is not the arrow beyond thee? haste.' Then Jonathan gave his artillery unto the lad and sent him back to the city ; and David came out of his hiding-place, and they made a covenant together, for Jonathan loved him as his own soul. Then David had to flee to Naioth in Ramah and Jonathan went back to the city."
Q. What do you know of Richelieu? (Book studied, Mrs Creighton's
First History of France.)
E. (aged 10), answer partly written, partly dictated:--
"Cardinal Richeleu (sic) was
brought to the French Court by the
Queen mother, who thought he would do as she wished, but she was
mistaken, for he no sooner was there than he turned against her, for
Louse (sic) took him into his
favour and made him Prime Minister after
he had been there a few weeks. Richeleu (sic) was a devoted Catholic, and
was determined to put down
the Hugenots (sic), or
Protestants as we call them, so he laid siege to
La Rochelle, the chief town of the Hugenots (sic), who applied to the
English for help. Charles sent a fleet to La Rochelle under pretence of
helping the Hugenots (sic)*
* After this, the answer was dictated.
but Admiral Pennington, who was in command of the ships, received orders when half way down the channel to take in French soldiers and sailors at Calais and to go to the French side. When Admiral Pennington ordered the ships to take in the soldiers, his men mutinied and he had to go back. Richelieu had thrown up earthworks across the harbour so that it was impossible to get in. Now Rochelle held out bravely, but at last it had to surrender, and out of 40,000, 140 crawled out, too weak to bury the dead in the streets. La Rochelle was razed to the ground, and never recovered its prosperity. One by one the Huguenot towns surrendered, and thus the Huguenots were destroyed. When Richelieu was made Prime Minister, the nobles did not like him, because they thought he had too much power, and now when Louis was ill, the Queen mother came to him, and in a stormy passion of tears begged Louis to send away his ungrateful servant. Louis promised he would do so, and Richelieu's fall seemed certain. Now all the nobles crowded to the Queen mother to pay their respects to her, as they thought she would now be the most important person in the Government. But one noble, who was wiser than the rest, went to Richelieu and begged to plead his cause before the King. The King promised he would keep him if he would serve him as he had done before. The Queen mother was foiled, and returned to Brussels, where she died."
Q. What towns, rivers, and castles would you see in travelling about
Warwickshire? (Book studied, Geographical
Reader, Book III.)
B. (aged 9 1/2), answer dictated:--
"Warwick, Kenilworth, Coventry, Stratford, Leamington, and
Birmingham are all towns which you would see if you travelled through
Warwick.
"The Avon stretches from north to south of Warwickshire. It has its
tributary the Leam, upon which Leamington is situated.
"There is a castle of Warwick and Coventry and Kenilworth.
"Warwick is the capital of the county. It has a famous castle, whose
high and lofty towers stand upon the bank of the river Avon.
"Coventry is a very old town. It also has a beautiful castle, where the
fair Lady Godiva and her father used to live, about whom I suppose you
have read.
"Stratford is called 'The Swan on the Avon,' because that is where
Shakespeare, the great poet, was born and died, and this is a little
piece of poetry about him;--
'Where his first infant lays, sweet Shakespeare sung,
Where the last accents faltered on his tongue.'
"The river Avon takes its rise in the vale of Evesham, then winds through pleasant fields and meadows till it comes to the south of Warwickshire, and then it becomes broad and stately and flows on up to Coventry, where the Leam branches off from it (!), and then it becomes narrower and narrower until it gets out of Warwickshire and stops altogether at Naseby (!)"
Q. How many kinds of bees are there in a hive? What work does each
do? Tell how they build the comb. (Book studied, Fairyland of Science.)
F. (aged 10), answer dictated:--
"Three kinds. The drones or males, the workers or females, and the queen bee. The drone is fat, the queen is long and thin, the workers are small and slim. The queen bee lays the eggs, the worker bee brings the honey in and makes the cell, and the drones wait to be fed. On a summer's day you see something hanging on a tree like a plum pudding, this is a swarm of bees. You will soon see someone come up with a hive, turn it upside down, shake the bough gently, and they will fall in. They will put some clean calico quickly over the bottom of the hive, and turn it back over on a bench. The bees first close up every little hole in the hive with wax, then they hang on to the roof, clinging on to one another by their legs. Then one comes away and scrapes some wax from under its body, and bites it in its mouth until it is pulled out like ribbon, this she plasters on the roof of the hive, then she flies out to get honey, and comes home to digest it, hanging from the roof, and in 24 hours this digested honey turns to wax, then she goes through the same process again. Next, the nursing bees come and poke their heads into this wax, bite the wax away (20 bees do this before one hole is ready to make a cell). Other bees are working on the other side at the same time. Each cell is made six-sided, so as to take up the least wax and the smallest space. When the cells are made the bees come in with honey in their honey-bag or first stomach; they can easily pass the honey back though their mouths into the cells. It takes many bees to fill one cell, so they are hard at work."
G. (aged 9), written by child:--
Composition on 'The Opening of
Parliament.'
"The opening of Parliament by King Edward VII and Queen Alexander (sic) was rather grand. First, they drove to the
Houses of Parliament in a grand state carriage which had been used by George III, and then when they got there they had to robe in a certain room in great big robes, all edged with ermine fur, and with huge trains. Queen Alexandra had an evening dress on, and King Edward a very nice kingly sort of suit (which was nearly covered up by his robes), and then they walked along to the real Houses of Parliament, where the members really sit. Then the king made a speech to open Parliment (sic), and other people made speeches too, and everything was done with grandeur and stateliness such as would befit a king. May Parliament long be his!"
Class III.--In Class III. (approximately grades 8-10) the age range is from eleven or twelve years to fifteen. The 'subjects': Bible Lessons and Recitations (Poetry and Bible passages); English Grammar, French, German, and Latin; Italian (optional); English, French, and Ancient History (Plutarch's Lives); Singing (French, English, and German Songs); Writing, Dictation, Drill Exercises; Drawing in Brush and Charcoal; Nature Science, Botany, Physiology, Geography; Arithmetic; Geometry, and Reading. About thirty-five books are used. Time spent is 3 1/2 hours a day; half an hour of this time, as said before, is for drill excersize and games. There is no preparation or home work in any of the classes. You will notice from the included examples that the papers are still written with pleasure, and show an intelligent grasp of the different subjects. Although there are errors in many of the papers, they are not often the mistakes of ignorance or stupidity, nor are they those of a person who doesn't understanod what he's writing about. 'Composition' is never taught as a subject; well-educated children write in the same way that well-raised children behave--by the light of nature. I don't think that any great writer was ever taught the art of 'composition.' The same can be said about spelling. Except for an occasional stubborn case, the habit of reading teaches spelling. All of the students of the Parents' Review School don't take all the subjects sscheduled in the programmes of the different classes. Sometimes, parents have the mistaken notion that the more subjects are studied, the heavier the workload. But in reality, the opposite is
true, unless the hours of study are increased. Sometimes, outside lessons in languages, music, etc., interfere; sometimes, poor health will not allow more than an hour or two of work in a day. The children in the intern school do all the work scheduled, and their work compares satisfactorily with the rest, even though the classes have the disadvantage of changing teachers every week. Children in Class III. write all of their examination work.
Q. Describe the founding of Christ's Kingdom. What are the laws of
His Kingdom?
A. (aged 13):--
"Christ came to found His kingdom. He preached the laws to His people. He taught them to pray for it: 'Thy kingdom come.' And He told His chosen few to 'go and preach the Gospel of the kingdom.' He founded His kingdom in their hearts, and He reigned there. He will still found His kingdom in our hearts. He will come and reign as King. The kingdom was first founded by the sea of Galilee. 'Follow Me,' said our Lord to Andrew, and from that moment the kingdom was founded in Andrew's heart. Then there were Peter, James, John, Phillip (sic), Nathaniel (sic), and the kingdom grew. From that moment Christ never stopped His work for the kingdom--preaching and teaching, healing and comforting, proclaiming the laws of the kingdom. 'Think not that I am come to destroy the law or the prophets. I am not come to destroy, but to fulfil.' 'One jot or one tittle shall in no wise pass from the law.' 'Whosoever shall break one of these least commandments, and shall teach men so, the same shall be called the least in the kingdom.' No commandment was to pass from the law, but there was a new commandment, a new law, and that was 'love.' 'Love your enemies.' The Pharisees could not understand it. 'Love your friends, and hate your enemies,' was their law. But Jesus said, 'Bless them that curse you, and pray for them that despitefully use you.' 'Give, hoping for nothing in return'; and, 'Whosoever shall smite thee on one cheek turn to him the other also.' Christ's law is the love which 'suffereth long and is kind. . . . seeketh not her own . . . never faileth . . . hopeth all things, endureth all things'; and 'now abideth faith, hope, and charity, these three, but the greatest of these is--love.'"
Q. Explain 'English Funds, Consols 2 3/4 per cent, 113.
And give an account of the South Sea Bubble. (Book studied, Arnold-Forster's History of England.)
B. (aged 14 1/2):--
"This means that when the South Sea Company first appeared, the Government gave them £113 on condition that the Company should give 2 3/4 per cent, which means £2 15s. on every £100 lent, for a certain number of years. In the reign of George I. the money matters of the country were in a very bad state. The Government was very much in debt, especially to those people who had purchased annuities, and had a right to receive a certain sum of money from the Government every year as long as they lived. Sir Robert Walpole, who was then Prime Minister, was most anxious to pay off part of this debt. He heard of a Company which had just been started, called the South Sea Company, whose object was to trade in the South Seas. This was what Walpole wished for. He suggested to them that they should pay off the debt due to the people who had bought annuities, and in return the Government would give them some priveleges (sic) and charts which would be useful to them. This the Company agreed to do, but instead of paying the people in money they gave them what were called 'shares' in the South Sea Company. These shares were supposed to be very valuable; and it was thought that the South Sea Company was really prosperous, and that those who had shares in it would have most enormous profit in the end. Thousands of people came to buy shares, and some of them were so anxious to get them that they spent enormous sums of money on these worthless pieces of paper. All was well for a time, but at last the people began to wish for their money instead of the shares, and claimed it loudly from the Company. It was then that the bubble burst. It was discovered then that the Company was quite unable to pay what was due, and that all this time they had been deluding the nation by promises and giving them shares, and that they had never been the rich and prosperous Company they made themselves out to be. Naturally, the most dreadful distress prevailed everywhere, and many were absolutely ruined, so that the Government had to help those who were most distressed. At this point Sir Robert Walpole came to the rescue. He made the Bank of England pay some of the debts, and behaved with such cleverness that he saved the country almost from ruin."
Q. What do you know of the States General? (Book studied, Mrs
Creighton's First History of France.)
C. (aged 12):--
"The States General met in May, 1789. The people had long wanted reforms, and been talking about them, and now on
the 5th of May, 1789, the States General met again for the first time since 1614. If the nobles sat in one bouse, and the people in another, as was the custom, they could never get tbe changes made. So the people with their leader, the Marquis of Mirabeau, declared that they would not leave the tennis court on which they were standing till it was agreed that they could sit together with the nobles. When Louis XVI. came down in State, and told them they were to sit apart, they said they would not leave their place except at the bayonets (sic) point. When he heard this he said, 'Very well, leave them alone.' So they sat together."
Q. Show fully how Aristides acquired the title of 'The Just.' Why
was it a strange title for a man in those days? (Book studied,
Plutarch's Lives: Aristides.)
D. (aged 13 1/4):--
"Aristides acquired the title of 'The Just' by his justice, and because he never did anything unjust in order to become rich or powerful. While many of the judges and chief men in Athens took bribes, he alone always refused to do so, and he also never spent the public money on himself. When, after having defeated the Persians, at Platae, the Greek States decided to have a standing army, it was Aristides who was sent round to settle how much each town should contribute. And he did this so fairly and well, that all the Greek States blessed and praised his arrangement. It is said that Aristides could not only resiste (sic) the unjust claims of those whom he loved, but also those of his enemies. Once when he was judging a quarrel between two men, one of them remarked that the other had often injured Aristides. 'Tell me not that,' was the reply of Aristides, 'but what he has done to thee, for it is thy cause I am judging, not my own.' Another time when he had gone to law himself, and when, after having heard what he had to say, his judges were going to pass sentence on his adversary without having heard him, Aristides rose and entreated his judges to hear what his enemy could say in his own defence. In all that he did Aristides was inflexibly Just, and many stories were told of his justice. Though he loved his country well, he would never do anything wrong to gain for Athens some advantage, and in all he did his one aim was justice, and his only ambition to be called 'The Just.' He was so just and good, that he was called the 'most just man in Greece.' In the times in which Aristides lived, men used to care more to be called great, rich, or powerful than just. Themistocles, the great rival of Aristides, used to do all he could to become the first man in Athens, and rich as well as powerful. He did not besitate to take bribes, and all he did for the Athenians was done with a view to making himself the head of the people,
and the first man in the State. He used often to do unjust as well as cruel things in order to get his own ends. It was the same with most other men who lived at this time, they prefered (sic) being rich, powerful or great, to being distinguished by the title of 'The Just.'"
Q, Describe a journey in Northern Italy. (Book studied, Geographical
Reader, Book IV.).
E. (aged 12):--
"I am about to go for a tour round the northern part of Italy, and after I have taken a train to Savoy, which is about the south-east of France, I enter into Italy by the Cenis pass, which is very lofty, about 7,000 feet above sea level.
"On arriving in Italy, I come into the province of Piedmont, which has three mountain torrents or streams running through it. These streams join at Turin, the capital of Piedmont, and form the Po river, which flows out on the east coast of France into the Gulf of Venice, On the banks of the three mountain streams are some Protestants by the name of Waldenses, who say they are followers of the disciples, but if you ask any outsider, they will say, 'Oh! the Waldenses are followers of a good man, by the name of Waldo, who fled out of France in the 12th century!
"We will now go and see Turin, and the first thing we say is, 'What a clean town,' and so it certainly is, for it is quite the cleanest town in Italy, as the people have only to turn on the fountain taps to clean their paved streets. And after we have looked at Alessandria, where Napoleon gained his great victory, we leave Piedmont and follow up the river Po, until we come to its next tributary, the river Ticino, which runs up north into the Lake Maggiore, which is five to six miles wide and about sixty miles in length, This lake has four islands, which are named after Count Borromeo and so called the Borromean Islands, which are cultivated like gardens with terrases (sic) for resting places.
"Now let us go to Milan, which is so well known by its beautiful cathedral of white and black marble which have (sic) no less than 4000 sculptures of white marble, with pillars of Egyptian granite. Milan is famous for silks and lace to provide for the numerous palaces.
"We will now go back to the next lake, Lake Como, which is surrounded by mountains, and supposed to be the most beautiful of all lakes. At the south it goes out in a fork, and between the fork is a beautiful piece of land called Bellagia (sic).
"The next lake we come to is the Garda, the largest of all the lakes, and then we go on to the smallest of lakes called Lugano.
"We now having visited all the lakes, take a look at Lodi, the
famous cheese market in Italy; after which we visit Verona, where Pliny the naturalist was born, also Paul Veronese. Shakespeare lays the scene of his play 'Romeo and Juliet' in Verona. The short time we have we spend at Venice, the queen of the Italian citys (sic) with its wonderful canals and the marvellous cathedral of St Mark's, also the dark, gloomy palace of the Doge."
Q. How are the following seeds dispersed:--Birch, Pine, Dandelion,
Balsam, Broom? Give diagrams and observations. (Book studied, Mrs
Brightwen's Glimpses into Plant Life.)
F. (aged 13):--
"The seeds of the Birch are very small, with two wings, one on each side, so that in a high wind numbers of them are blown on to high places, such as crevises (sic) on the face of a rock, or clevises (sic) on a church tower, or the tower of an old ruin. They are so light that they are carried a long way.
"The seeds of the Pine are very small, and the veins in the seed are wriggly, so that the seed is curly, which makes it whirl rapidly in the air, and the whirling motion carries it along a little way before it rests on the ground. It has two small wings.
"The seeds of the Dandilion (sic) are large, with a kind of silky parashute (sic) attached, so that when they fall off they do not fall to the ground, but are carried a little way because the wind catches the under part of the parashute (sic). The seed has a little hook at the top of it which prevents'lt from being pulled out of the ground by the parashute (sic) after it is once in.
"The Balsam seed case splits when the seeds are ripe and sends them flying in all directions, so they are far enough dispersed, and need no wings or parashutes (sic) to help them.
"The Broom seed case is a carpel, more like that of the sweet pea. When the seeds are ripe the two sides of the carpel split open and curl up like springs and send the seeds flying out, so they are dispersed without needing wings or parachutes."
Q. Describe the tissue of a potato and of a piece of rhubarb. (Book
studied, Oliver's Elementary Botany.)
G. (aged 13):--
"The tissue of Rhubarb is very fibrous indeed. In fact, it is almost entirely made up of vessels. These are cells which have become tubes by the dividing cell-wall being absorbed. These vessels are very beautiful when seen under a microscope, for their walls are all thickened in some way, in order to make them
strong enough to bear the weight of the leaf. Some are thickened by a spiral cord, which goes round and round the wall of the vessel. In some vessels this is quite tightly twisted round the wall, that is to say, the rings do not come far apart; in others it is quite loose and far apart. Another kind of thickening is by rings, which just go round the tube and are not joined to each other. Other vessels, again, have little knots in them like what there are in birch bark.
"The Potato tissue is mainly made up of starch, as it is one of the plant's storehouses, and starch is one of the plant's principal foods."
Q. Give a diagram of the eye, and explain how we see everything.
(Book studied, Dr Schofield's Physiology
for Schools.)
H. (aged 13):--
"The eye can be likened to a camera, and the brain to the man behind the camera. The image enters at the hole, passes through the lens, is reflected on the plate, but the camera does not see, it is the man behind the camera who sees. In the same way, the image passes in at the pupil and through the lens, both sides of which are curved, and can be tightened or slackened according to the distance of the image. Then the image passes along the nerve of sight to the two bulbs in the brain which see. If you hold a rounded glass between a sheet of paper and the image at the right distance (for the glass cannot tighten or slacken like our lens), you will see the image reflected upside-down on the paper. This is the way the lens acts. There is a small yellow spot a little below the middle of the back of the eye; here the sight is more acute, and so, though we can see lots of things at one time, we can only look at one thing at a time. There is a blind spot where the nerve enters the eye (which shows that the nerve of sight itself is blind) so that some part of every image is lost, like a black dot punched in it. But we are so used to it that we cannot see it.
Q. Describe your favourite scene in Waverley.
I. (aged 12 1/2):--
"A Highland Stag Hunt.--The Highland Cheifs (sic) were in various postures: some reclining lazily on their plaids, others stalking up and down conversing with one another, and a few were already seated in position for the sport. MacIvor was talking with another Cheif (sic) as to what the sport would be; but as they talked in Gaelic, Edward had no part in the conversation, but sat looking at the scene before him. They were
seated on a low hill at the head of a broad valley which narrowed into a small opening or cleft in the hills at the extreme end. It was hemmed in on all sides by hills of various heights. It was through this opening that the beaters were to drive the deer. Already Waverly (sic) could hear the distant shouts of the men calling to each other coming nearer and nearer. Soon he could distinguish the antlers of the deer moving towards the opening like a forest of trees stiped (sic) of their leaves. The sportsmen prepared themselves to give them a warm reception, and all were ready as the deer entered the valley.
"They looked very ferocious, as they advanced towards where Edward and the cheifs (sic) were standing and seemed as if they were determined to fight; the roes and weaker ones in the centre, and the bulls standing as if on defence. As soon as they came within range, some of the cheifs (sic) fired, and two or three deer came down. Waverly (sic) also had the good fortune (and also the skill) to bring down a couple and gain the aplause (sic) of the other sportsmen. But the herd was now charging furiously up the valley towards them. The order was given to lie down, as it was impossible to stem the coming wave of deer; but as it was given in Gaelic it conveyed no meaning to Edward's mind, and he remained standing.
"The heard (sic) was now not fifty yards from him; and in another minute he would have been trampled to death; but Maclvor at his own risk, jumped up and literaly (sic) dragged him to the ground just as the deer reached them. Edward had a sensation as if he was out in a severe hail storm, but this did not last long.
"When they had passed, and Edward attempted to rise, he found that besides a number of bruises he had also severely sprained his ancle (sic), and was unable to walk, or even stand. A shelter was soon made for him out of a plaid in which he was laid; and then Maclvor called the Highland doctor or herbalist, to attend him. The doctor approached Edward with every sign of humiliation, but before attending to his ancle (sic), he insisted upon walking slowly round him several times, in the direction in which the sun goes, muttering at the same time a spell over him as he went, and though Waverly (sic) was in great pain he had to submit to his foolery. Waverly (sic) saw to his great astonishment that Maclvor believed or seemed to believe in the old man's cantations (sic). At last, when he had finished his spells, which he seemed to think more necessary than the dressing, he drew from his pocket a little packet of herbs, some of which he applied to the sprained ancle (sic) and after it had been bound up, Edward felt much relieved. He rewarded the doctor with some money, the value of which seemed to exceed his wildest imaginations, for he heaped so many blessings upon the head
of Waverly (sic) that MacIvor said, ' A hundred thousand curses on you,' whereupon he stopped."
Class IV.--Girls are usually in Class IV. (about 10th-12th grade) for two or three years, from age fourteen or fifteen to seventeen, after which they are ready to specialize and usually do well. The schedule/programme for Class IV. is especially interesting. It adds Geology and Astronomy to the sciences that are studied, more advanced Algebra to the Mathematics, and uses the history of Modern Europe instead of French history. The literature, to illustrate the history, includes the reading of a good many books, and the German and French books illustrate the history studied when possible. All the books (about forty) are of a different calibre from those used in the lower classes--they are books for intelligent students.
I think you will see that due growth has taken place in the minds of the girls, regarding both judgment and ability to appreciate. I don't think the intelligence has changed,--
"Love has no infancy, nor does the mind."
But as our concern is with boys and girls under twelve. It will be enough to demonstrate by showing two or three exam papers that this kind of education by books results in intelligence.
Q. For what purpose were priests instituted? (Book studied, Dr
Abbot's Bible Lessons.)
A. (aged 15 1/2):--
"The system of the Jewish priesthood was almost entirely symbolical. God ordained it, we believe, to lead the primitive mind of his chosen people onwards and upwards, to the true belief and earthly comprehension of that great sacrifice, by the grace of which we are all now honoured to become 'kings and priests unto God.' In the earliest times of the patriarchs, there was in every holy and honourable Jewish family some voluntary priest to offer up the burnt offerings and yearly sacrifices. We have an example of this in Job the patriarch, who, we read, ministered to his family in the capacity of priest of their offerings. In the wilderness, however, God commanded through Moses the foundation of a separate and holy priesthood to minister in His
Tabernacle and offer His appointed sacrifices. The tribe of Levi and the family of Aaron were set apart for this purpose, and in the building of the tabernacle, and the annointing (sic) of Aaron and his four sons, the cornerstone was laid to that great building which became a fit dwelling for the presence of God and the heart of Israel, until Christ came to change and lighten the world; and the symbol and the shadow became the truth."
Q. "His power was to assert itself in deeds, not words." Write a
short sketch of the character of Cromwell, discussing the above
statement. (Book studied, Green's Shorter
History of the English
People.)
B. (aged 15):--
"Cromwell was no orator. It has been said that if all his speeches were taken and made into a book, it would seem simply a pack of nonsense. In Parliament though, the earnestness with which he spoke attracted attention. His deeds proved his innate power, which could not express itself in words. He may be called the inarticulate man. In his mind, everything was clear, and his various actions proved his purposes and determinations, but in speaking, he simply brought out a hurried volume of words, in the mazes of which one entirely lost the point meant to be implied. Cromwell also was more of an administrator than a statesman, unspeculative and conservative. He was subject to fits of hypocondria (sic), which naturally had some effect on his character. He considered himself a servant of God, and acted accordingly. Undoubtedly he was under the conviction that he was carrying out the Lord's will in all he did. He was not in calm moods a bloody man, but when his anger was kindled he would spare no one. At times be would be filled with remorse for the part he had taken in the martyrdom of the king; then, again be would say it was the just punishment of heaven on Charles. In giving orders his words were curt and to the point, but in making speeches he adopted the phraseology of the Bible, which added to their ambiguity. One would think he was ambitious, for at one time he asked Whitelock: 'What if a man should take upon himself to be king?' evidently having in view the regal power, and yet according to his own assertion he would rather have returned to his occupation as a farmer, than have undertaken the government of Britain. But in this, as in other acts, he recognised the call of God, (as he thought) and obeyed it."
Q. What do you know of the Girondins? (Book studied, Lord's Modern Europe.)
C. (aged 17):--
"The Girondins were the perhaps most tolerant and reasonable of the revolutionary parties. They were a body of men who found the government of France under the king more than they could stand, and who were the first to welcome any changes, but were shocked and horrified at the dreadful riots and massacres which followed the fall of the throne. Such a party, representing justice and reform, could not be popular with the more violent Jacobins and like clubs. The day came when these latter were in power, and all the Girondins were thrown into prison.
"They were all taken from prison before the Court of Justice for trial, and placed before the judge, where they sat quite silently; they were one by one condemned to execution, receiving the sentence of death with perfect calmness. Only their leader was seen to fall down; one of his companions leant over him and said: 'What, are you afraid?' 'Non,' was the answer, 'Je mours,' he had stabbed himself with his dagger.
"As the Girondins marched back to their cells, condemned to die the next morning, they all sang the 'Marseillaise,' as they had arranged, to tell their fellow-prisoners what the sentence had been. When they reached the prison a splendid supper was placed for them, and they all sat down with great cheerfulness to eat it, none of them showing the least signs of breaking down. Towards morning priests were sent to them, and very early in the day they all marched to the foot of the guillotine, singing as they went. They kept on singing a solemn chant when the executions commenced, which became fainter and fainter as one by one they were beheaded, until all were gone."
Q. Distinguish between arrogant
and presumptuous, interference and
interposition, genuine and authentic, hate and detest, loathe and
abhor, education and instruction, apprehend and comprehend, using each
word in a sentence. (Book studied, Trench's Study of Words.)
E. (aged 15):--
"A man who is 'arrogant' is a man who has right to what he wants, but who is harsh and exacting in taking it. A 'presumptuous' man is a man who expects more than is due and takes it. 'Judge Jeffries was an arrogant old man.' 'Charles II. was a presumptuous king, he thought he could have absolute power.' " 'Interference,' is not minding your own business, and meddling with other people's when we are not wanted. 'Interposition' is more the' doing good by interfering' as protecting a little boy from a bully. 'But for the interference of James all
would have gone well.' 'Thanks to the interposition of Mary a quuarrel was averted.'
"Genuine' means real, true, what it seems to be a--'a real genuine ruby.' 'Authentic,' in speaking of a book, means really written by the author to which it is ascribed. 'Dickens' Oliver Twist is certainly authentic.'
"You would 'hate' a man who killed your father. 'Charles II. hated Cromwell.' You would 'detest' a man who had not done you any personal injury, but who (sic) you knew to be a murderer. 'Yeo detested the Spaniards.'
"You would 'loathe' a poisonous snake or a hypocrite. 'David Copperfield loathed Uriah Heep.' You would abhor a man inferior to you in intellect or principles, as a great king would 'abhor' a cringing coward, leave him behind, go on without him, refuse to listen to him. 'Napoleon abhorred the traitor.'
"'Education' is the lessons you receive as a matter of course, as French, writing, grammar. 'Instruction' is this, but more also, it includes moral teaching, the teaching of honesty, and the teaching of gentleness. 'Henry had a good education.' 'No well-instructed Britain (sic) is a coward.'"
'Apprehend' is to see, or hear, and notice. 'Comprehend' is to understand, without seeing or hearing perhaps. 'Phillip apprehended that danger was near, but he did not comprehend it.'"
Q. Give shortly Carlyle's estimate of Burns, showing what he did for
Scotland, and what was the cause of his personal failure in life. (Book
studied, Carlyle's Essay on Burns.)
F. (aged 17):--
"Carlyle looked upon Burns as one of the nicest of men and greatest of poets; rather a weak man, perhaps, but covering all his faults with his genius and kindness of heart, clever and persevering, and basely neglected and shunned by his contemporaries. It is quite extraordinary to read the world-famous poems of this poet, and to remember that he was a ploughman, and surrounded only by the most uneducated peasants and fellow-labourers, though, of course, the life of a ploughman in the hills of Scotland is far more likely to encourage poetry and reflection than the life of many a London dentist or hair-dresser far higher in rank; but it is easy to believe in fact, that Burns would have found inspirations for his genius in a flat sandy waste or a grocer's shop, and, as Carlyle says, a man or woman is not a genius unless they are extraordinary, not really inspired if such a person could have been imagined before. Robert Burns has provided Scotland for centuries at least, with plenty of national poetry, his poems are such as can be enjoyed,
like flowers and trees and all things really beautiful, by old and young, stupid and clever, fishermen and prime ministers--surely that is a work of which any man would be proud!
"Burns (sic) chief fault, if fault it can be called, and the cause of his failure in life, seems to have been a sort of bitterness against people more fortunate than himself without the art of hiding it. This, real or affected, seems very common in poets, and such an inspired man, a man with a mind greater than kings, must have felt very deeply, almost without knowing it, the 'unrefinedness' of the people he loved best, and his own distance from the admirers who clustered round him later in life.
"All his life, it seems, he was in a place by himself, now spending his time with his own family, acting a part all day, trying to make his relations feel him an equal, pretending to take a great interest in what he did not care for--the pigs, and cows, and porridge, seeing his own dearest friends looking at him with awe, and feeling him something above them, thinking of his 'great' friends, and feeling embarrassed when he came, and more at ease without his presence.
"Now, on the other hand, associating with people, high in rank and education, enjoying their friendship and praise, but feeling, be they ever so kind and familiar, that he was not their equal by birth, and that they could not treat him quite as such, however hard they might try, turning familiarity in his mind into slights, and kindness into condescension. This to a proud man must have been misery, and Burns must have been very lonely in a crowd of companions, thronged with admirers, but without a friend.
"Nobody understood Burns; he shared his opinions with no one he
knew. When, at the beginning of the French Revolution he expressed his
delight and approval, the people who admired him were shocked, refused
to speak to him, and regarded him either as mad or terribly wicked. His
poems were not admired as much as they deserved to be, he had hardly
any money, was never likely to get on in the world, was shunned and
disgraced, and began, as a last resource,* to drink too much. Ill
health was one of his misfortunes, and this intemperance killed him.
* The writers have been in two minds about the
spelling of words
marked.
"Thus died at the age of thirty-seven, poor, friendless, despised, the man who has given pleasure to thousands, and an undying collection of poems and songs to his country."
Q. Give some account, as far as you can in the style of Carlyle, of the Procession of May 4th. (Book studied, Carlyle's French Revolution.)
G. (aged 14 1/2):--
"See the doors of Notre Dame open wide, the Procession issuing*
forth, a sea of human faces that are to reform France. First come the
nobles in their gayly (sic)
tinted robes, next the clergy, and then the
commons, the Tiers Etats in their slouched hats firm and resolute, and
lastly the king, and the Oeuil-de-boeuf, these are greeted by a
tremendous storm of vivats. Vive le roi! Vive la nation! Let us suppose
we can take up some coigne (sic)
of vantage from which we can watch the
procession, but with eyes different from other eyes, namely with
prophetic eyes. See a man coming, striding at the head of the Tiers
Etats, tall and with thick lips and black hair, whose father and
brother walk among the nobles. Close beside walks Doctor Guillotin,*
learned Doctor Guillotin,* who said, 'My friends (mes amis), I have a
machine that will whisk off your heads in a second, and cause you no
pain,' now doomed for two years to see and hear nothing but guillotin,
and for more than two centuries after yonder a desolate ghost on this
(sic) of the Styx. Mark, too,
a small mean man, a sea-green man with
sea-green eyes, Robespierre by name, a small underhand secretary
walking beside one Dantun (sic)
tall and massive, cruelty and vengeance
on their faces. We may not linger longer, but one other we must note,
one tall and active with a cunning air, namely, Camille Desmouellins
(sic), one day to rise to fame
and the next to be forgotten.
* The writers have been in two minds about the
spelling of words
marked.
"Many more walk in that procession one day to become famous, Bailli, future president of a New Republick (sic), and Marat, with Broglie the War God and others.
"The Tiers Etats with Mayor Bailli march to the rooms where they are to sit, but the doors are shut: there is sound of hammering within.
"Mayor Bailli knocks, and wants to know why they are shut out? It is the king's orders. He wants his papers. He may come in and get them, and with this they must be content.
"They swarm to Versailles, the king steps out on the balconny (sic) and speaks. He says the room is being prepared for his own august presence; a platform is being erected, he says he is sorry to inconvience (sic) them; but he is afraid they must wait, and with that he retires. Meanwhile patriotism consults as to what had best be done. Shall they meet on the palace steps? or even in the streets? At length they adjourn to the tennis court, and there patriotism swears one by one to be faithful to the New National Assembly, as they now name themselves. This is known as the Oath of the Tennis Court."
I've given examples of part of thirty students' work to illustrate their education by books. It isn't necessary to speak of their education by Things: that is thorough and systematic. But I'd like point out that what's been shown average work. I don't know if you think that I have proved my point, the point that 'studies'--schoolroom studies--'are for delight, for ornament, and for ability.'
What a Child Should Know at Twelve Years Old
As a way to encourage school officials (whether they're private schools, preparatory schools, girls' schools, or 'Lower' schools) to seriously consider whether they might introduce this method of Education by Books, let me list a few considerations:--
1. The cost of the books per student for a six year education--from
ages
six to
twelve--does not average more than £1 (less than two dollars) per
year. A schedule of work
for
elementary schools could be arranged for much less per year for
books.
2. 2.5 hours a day for Class I., to 3.5 hours a day, for
Class III., is plenty of time for this kind of a book education.
3. A lot of writing is unnecessary, because the students have the
information in
their books and they know where to find it.
4. Classes II. and III. are able to keep themselves busy, studying with
pleasure and productivity.
5. Teachers are relieved of the drudgery of having to make
so many corrections.
6. The students have the afternoons free for handicrafts, nature-work,
walks,
games, etc.
7. The evenings are free, whether students are at school or at home,
for reading
aloud, choral singing, hobbies, etc.
8. The students gain many intelligent interests, start hobbies, and
have plenty of time for them.
9. There is no stressful cramming for term exams. The students know
their lessons, and they find it easy to answer questions that are
designed to
find out what they know, instead of what they do not know.
10. Children of any age, no matter how they were taught previously,
take up
this sort of
work enthusiastically.
11. Children taught in this way approach ordinary school work,
preparation for exams, etc., with intelligence, enthusiasm, and
success.
The six years' curriculum--from ages six to twelve--that I suggest, should and does result in the ability of the students--
(a) To grasp the gist of a
rather long passage at a single
reading: and to narrate the substance of what they've read or heard.
(b) To spell, and express
themselves in writing easily and fairly
correctly.
(c) To give a sequenced and
detailed account of any subject they've
studied.
(d) To describe in writing
what they've seen, or heard from the
newspapers.
(e) They should be
familiar with the common objects nature in
their environment, and have the ability to paint some of these in
brushwork.
(f) Should have skill in
various handicrafts, such as cardboard Sloyd,
basket-making, clay-modelling, etc.
(g) In Arithmetic, they should
have some knowledge of simple and
decimal fractions, percentage, household finances, etc.
(h) Should have a knowledge of
basic Algebra, and should have done
some practical exercises in Geometry.
(i) Of Elementary Latin
Grammar, they should read fables and easy stories,
and, perhaps, one or two books of 'Caesar.'
(j) They should have some
ability to understanding spoken French, and be
able to speak a little; and to read an easy French book without a
dictionary.
(k) In German, pretty much the
same
as in French, but with less progress.
(l) In History, they will have
gone through a rather detailed study of
English, French, and Classical (Plutarch) History.
(m) In Geography they will
have studied the map of the world in detail,
and have been at one time able to fill in the landscape, industries,
etc., from their studies, of each region of the map.
(n) They will have learned the
fundamental elements of Physical Geography, Botany,
Human Physiology, and Natural History/science, and will have read
interesting
books on some of these subjects.
(o) They should have some
knowledge of English Grammar.
(p) They should have a
considerable knowledge of Biblical History and
the text of the Bible.
(q) They should have
learned a good deal of Scripture and of Poetry,
and should have read some Literature.
(r) They should have learned
to sing using the Tonic Sol-fa method, and
they should know a number of English, French, and German Songs.
(s) They should have learned
Swedish Drill and various drills and
calisthenic exercises.
(t) In Drawing they should be
able to sketch common household and field objects with paintbrush or
charcoal; they should be able to express ideas in a general way; and
they should be acquainted with the
works of some artists by using reproductions.
(u) In Music, their knowledge
of theory and their ear-training should
keep pace with their ability to make music.
This is the kind of progress that an average student of twelve should have made under a teacher with knowledge and ability. Progress in the disciplinary subjects, such as languages and mathematics, depends entirely on the knowledge and ability of the teacher.
Examination of a Twelve-Year-Old Child in the 'Parents' Review' School, Tested on One Term's Work
Maybe a complete copy of answers to an exam will be of use in showing the all-round progress of a student who has been educated using the principles I've proposed. This paper is not unusually exceptional, (A large number of complete sets of examination answers may be seen at the office, and further information can be had from the Secretary, P.N.E. U., 26 Victoria Street, London, S. W.) and some weakness will be noticed in what I've called the disciplinary subjects (there are some technical errors - spelling, etc).
The Term Programme/Schedule on which the Exam is based:
Bible Lessons.
The Bible for the Young, by
the Rev. J. Paterson Smyth (Sampson,
Low, 2s.), Genesis, Lessons
xvii.-xxiv.,
S. Matthew, Lessons xvi.-xxiv., and the Lesson on Christmas. Teacher to prepare lesson beforehand, and to use the Bible passages in teaching. Answers to Catechism with explanations from the beginning to the Lord's Prayer (optional).
Recitations.
Learn two passages of 20 verses each from chapters in Bible Lessons.
Learn The Death of the Duke of
Wellington; The Charge of the
Light
Brigade; You ask me Why.
French. (Where
the Gouin Series are not taken, French, German, and
Italian should be taught orally, teacher repeating aloud, pupil
reciting after her.)
The Gouin Series; A Study of French, by Eugene &
Duriaux
(Edition 1898, Macmillan & Co., 3s. 6d.), pages 184, 194, 196, 198;
teacher study preface. Premiere
Annee Grammaire, par P. Larousse, Rules
61, 63, 64, 66, 70, 74, Exercises 55, 58, 61, 63. Read the first half
of Le General Dourakine, par
Mdme. de Segur (Hachette, Is.), parse two
pages. Learn a poem from Recueil de
Poesies, par Mdme. de Witt
(Hachette, 2s.).
German. (Where the Gouin Series are not taken, French, German, and Italian should be taught orally, teacher repeating aloud, pupil reciting after her.) Eight sections of the Gouin Series; (or, translate into English and retranslate into German pages 1-8 from Niebuhr's Heroengeschichten (Clarendon Press, Is. 6d.). Book of Ballads on German History (University Press, 2s.); two ballads to be learnt by heart. First German Book, by A. L. Becker (Hachette, Is.), Lessons xxvii-xxxv. Use the words, from the lists of useful words, in sentences. Beginners read from Part II., reading lessons, §§ 16-23. Practise letters on pages xiii.-xvi.
Italian.
Ex-Students of House of Education, six of the Gouin Series. Twelve
grammar rules exemplified in Series.
Teachers use Perini's Italian
Conversation Grammar (Hachette, 4s.).
Latin.
Young Beginners' Third Latin Book
(Murray, 2S.), pages 9-15. Revise
back work by means of exercises. Young
Beginners' Second Latin Book (Murray, 2s.), pages 60-71.
Beginners.--Hall's Child's First
Latin Book (Murray, 2s.), 15-32; or,
better, A First Latin Book,
by E. H. Scott and F. Jones (Blackie, Is.
6d.), pages 1-32.
English History.
A History of England, by H. O.
Arnold-Forster (Cassell, 5s.), pages
719-758 (1820-1897). Read Scott's Lady
of the Lake, and, if possible,
Henry Kingsley's Valentin
(Ward, Lock & Co.).
French History.
Creighton's First History of France
(Longmans, 3s. 6d.), pages 279-293,
to be contemporary with English history.
Roman History.
Plutarch's Romulus, teacher
omitting unsuitable parts (Cassell's
National Library, 3d.).
Geography.
Geikie's Physical Geography
(Macmillan, Is.), pages 108-131, §§
224-270. London Geographical Readers
(Stanford), Book V. (2s. 6d.),
pages 238-267, with special reference to recent events; map questions
to be answered from map and then from memory, and then in filling up
blank map from memory before each
Lesson. Know something about foreign places coming into notice in the current newspapers. Ten minutes' exercise on the map of the world every week. The School Atlas, edited by H. O. Arnold-Forster (37 Bedford Street, London, IS. 6d or 3s.). Read also Arnold-Forster's History of England, chapters lxxv. and lxxvi.
English Grammar.
Morris's English Grammar
(Macmillan, Is.), pages 100-108, 98-99
(inclusive). Parse and analyse, using pages 109-125. Work from Morris's
English Grammar Exercises
(Macmillan, Is.).
Singing.
Three French songs, La Lyre ties
Ecoles (Curwen & Son). Three German songs, Erk's Deutsclter Liederschatz (Peters,
Leipsic).
Three English songs, Novello's School
Songs, Vol. xx. (8eL). Stainer's
Primer of Tonic Solfa (Curwen
& Son).
Writing.
Choose and transcribe ten poems or passages from Wordsworth. German
Copybook, No. I. (Nutt, 4d.). A New
Handwriting for Teachers, by M. M.
Bridges (Mrs Bridges, Yattenden, Newbury, 2s. 9d); work to page 6,
following instructions.
Drill.
Grecian Exercises and Marching Drills from Musical Drills for the
Standards (Philip & Son, 2s. 6d.). Ex-Students, House of
Education
Drills.
Dictation.
Growth and Greatness of our
World-wide Empire, pages 32-77 (four or
five pages a week) to be prepared, a passage dictated, or,
occasionally, written from memory.
Drawing.
Pour Dessiner Simplement, par
V. Jacquot et P. Ravoux (3S. 6d.), cahier
ii., iii., for occasional use. Twelve wild fruits on their branches,
with background, in brushwork; illustrations in brush-drawing from The
Lady of the Lake. Study and be able to describe the pictures in The
Holy Gospels, Part II. (S.P.C.K., Is. 8d.) (optional);
or, Join the Portfolio of Paintings (see The Children's Quarterly) ;
or, Follow the Fesole Club Papers.
Natural History.
Keep a Nature Note-Book. Geikie's Geology
(Macmillan, Is.), pages
125-144 (mountains), with questions. Refer to in holidays, and study in
term, Lowly Water Animals,
Lessons
1-21, inclusive.
Botany.
Oliver's Elementary Botany
(Macmillan, 4s. 6d.), chapter vii., pages
63-87. Glimpses into Plant Life,
Brightwen (Fisher Unwin, 2s.),
chapters v. and ix. Record the finding of and describe twenty wild
fruits (see Oliver). Specimens must be used in all botanical work.
Observe all you can about
the structure of various fruits (not edible), and about the dispersion
of seeds. Plant Life in Field and
Garden, by A. Buckley, pages 40-80.
Physiology.
Schofield's Physiology for Schools
(Cassell, Is. 9d.), pages 43-64.
Arithmetic.
Mair's Mental Arithmetic
(Sonnenschein, 9d.). Longman's Junior
School
Arithmetic (Is.), chapters xxi. and xxii., Practice and Bills. Miscellaneous examples from
pages 192 and 193.
Beginners.--chapters xvii., xviii., and xix., §§
74-81.
Euclid.
A First Step in Euclid, by J.
G. Bradshaw (Macmillan, Is. 6d.), pages
63-81.
Beginners.--Inductive Geometry,
by H. A. Nesbitt, M.A. (Sonnenschein,
Is. 6d.), chapters iv., v., vi.
Members who have Hamblin Smith's Euclid may continue to use it. The
books now set are more modern and lead to more intelligent work.
Reading.
Geography, English history, French history, and tales should afford
exercise in careful reading. Poetry should be read daily.
Composition.
Read on Thursdays and write from memory on Tuesdays (a) a passage from
Ecce Homo, Ecce Rex, Part II., chapters ii.
and iit, by Mrs R. Charles
(S.P.C.K., 3s. 6d.); (b)
Amold-Forster's History of England,
chapter
Ixxvii.
Work.
Attend to garden. Bent Iron Work,
by F. J. Erskine (Upcott Gill, IS.).
Make six models. SeIf-Teaching
Needlework Manual, edited by S. Loch
(Longmans, Is.), pages 25-54. Make a baby's crochet petticoat with body
part. Make a linen book cover, with design drawn and worked by yourself.
N.B.--For illustrations for History, Geography, etc., see the catalogue of the Perry Pictures (Art for Schools Association, 46 Great Ormond Street, London, 3d.).
Children who are beginners or who have just been moved up from Class II., or who find the work difficult, may omit three subjects.
_______________________________________________________________
Exam Questions Based on the Preceding Programme.
Bible Lessons.
I. 1. Show how God trained Joseph for his work. What lessons may we
learn from Joseph (a) in
prison, (b) in a palace?
2. (a) "I am
Joseph," (b) "Bless the lads,"
(c) "Until Shiloh come."
Give the context in each case, and describe the occasions on which
these words were used.
II. 1. Tell the parable (a) of
the Fig-tree, (b) of the Two
Sons. What
lessons may we learn from each?
2. (a) "Shall I
crucify your King?" (b)
"He.... wept bitterly," (c)
"He
is risen." Give the context (in the Bible words if possible) of each of
these quotations.
Recitations.
Father to choose two passages, of ten verses each, from the Bible
Lessons, and a poem.
French.
1. Write down in French the names of things that a huntsman uses for
the chase.
2. Recite the poem learned.
3. Write in French a short resume of the chapters read in Le General
Dourakine.
4. Make sentences to show the use of cette,
ces, ce, cet, leurs, ses,
tel, chaque, meme, nul.
German.
1. Say three sections of a Gouin Series,
and translate into English and
retranslate into German page 6, lines 14-24, from Heroengeschichten.
2. Translate into German :-- (a)
Which of these flowers is the finest?
(b) I have been once in Berlin
and three times in Paris.
3. Make sentences with other adjectives, using the German for 6, 15, 17, 9, 4, 18.
Italian.
Recite two Series, and give
two rules exemplified.
Latin.
1. Translate into English and retranslate into Latin Fable V., page 61,
and parse each word in the first sentence.
2. Translate into Latin :-- (a)
We dream whole nights; (b) I
will teach
you music; (c) The Roman
people elected Numa king; (d)
The Gauls dwell
on this side the Rhine; (e)
The master sees that many boys play. What
rule is illustrated in each sentence?
Beginners-- Translate into Latin:-- (a)
Where is the shield? (b) A
narrow shield is bad; (c) The
hen is small.
2. Make sentences using the words hic,
porta, augusta, duo, capita,
dux, quattuor, qui, sumus, murum, vident.
English History.
1. What do you know of the Anti-Corn Law League, and what have you
heard or read about a similar agitation in this country to-day?
2. What reasons induced each of the five countries engaged to enter on
the Crimean War? Give some account of the war.
3. "It was felt by all . . . that the government of India . . . could
not be left in the hands of the East India Company." Why? Give some
account of the events which led up to this.
French History.
1. Write shortly the history of the war with Prussia.
2. Describe the new constitution of 1875.
Roman History.
1. "Sardians to be sold." Who said this? Tell the story.
2. How did Romulus unite the Romans and the Sabines?
Geography.
1. Describe, with a map, a visit to the West Indies. What recent event
in these islands do you know of?
2. Write a short description of (a)
Mexico, and (b) a Brazilian
forest.
3. What is meant by saying, "The gates of the pathways of the sea are
in the hands of the British race"? Illustrate with a map.
4. How are coral reefs formed? Give a diagram of one. Describe, with
diagrams, a volcano.
English Grammar.
1. Analyse, parsing the words in italics:--
One by
one the flowers close,
Lily and dewy rose
Shutting
their tender petals from
the moon.
The grasshoppers are still; but not so soon
Are still the noisy crows.
2. Make sentences, showing the different ways in which the following
may be used:--dying, making, t tell,
but.
3. Give some words with each of the following prefixes:--epi, hypo,
cata, di, syn.
Singing.*
Father to choose an English, a French, and a German song, and three
Tonic Sol-fa exercises.
* Subjects thus indicated to be marked by the parents
according to Regulations.
Writing.
Write ten lines of Tennyson's from memory.
Drill.
Drill, before parents.
Dictation.
Growth and Greatness of our
World-Wide Empire, page 43, "Not. . . .
home."
Reading.*
Father to choose unseen poem.
* Subjects thus indicated to be marked by the parents
according to Regulations.
Drawing.
(a) Paint a carrot, an onion,
and a potato grouped together, (b)
an
illustration in brushdrawing of a scene from The Lady of the Lake, (c)
a glove, a trowel, and a rake in charcoal.
Natural History.
1. Describe (a) six sea (or
pond) creatures you found this last summer,
(b) the Foraminiferae. How do
sponges grow? Give a diagram.
2. What do we know of the origin of mountains? Describe any formation
you have examined this term--in cliff, river basin, or quarry.
Botany.
1. Give rough diagrams showing the manner of growth, with leaf buds, of
the twigs of the following trees:--oak, ash, horse-chestnut, beech,
sycamore.
2. Compare the fruits of the raspberry, strawberry, and blackberry,
with diagrams.
3. What are some of the ways in which plants store food? Give examples.
Physiology.
1. What are the functions of the skin? Give a diagram of the skin cells.
Arithmetic.
1. Find, by Practice, the cost of I ton 2 cwt. 2 qrs. and 20 lbs. at
£1, 13s. 10d. per cwt.
2. Find the cost of 4959 balls at 11 3/4d. each.
3. How much property tax should I pay on £5238, IOs. 0d. at 8
1/2d.
in the £?
4. Make out an invoice for 5 pairs of stockings at Is. 3 1/2d. per
pair; 40 needles at 13 1/2d. per score; 96 buttons at 6 1/2d. a dozen;
6 3/4 yds. silk at 5s. I0d. a yard.
Beginners--
1. Find the G.C.M. of 12321 and 54345, and the L.C.M. of 12, 18, 30,
48, and 60.
2. Reduce: 11385/16335, 96679/119427.
3. Find the sum of the quotient and remainder when 36789241 is divided
by 365.
Euclid.
1. To bisect a given finite straight line.
2. To draw a straight line perpendicular to a given straight line of
unlimited length from a given point without it.
3. Divide a given angle into four equal parts.
or,
1. Prove that the two angles of a triangle are always less than two
right angles.
2. Draw a kite consisting of an equilateral triangle and an isosceles
triangle twice the height.
3. The latitude of London is 51 1/2 degrees N. How far is it from the
South Pole?
Compostition.
Write some account of-- (a)
Recent events with regard to Korea and
Macedonia;
or, (b) (a) Scott, or (b) Burns, and his work.
(c) Write twenty lines on "An Autumn Evening" in the metre of The Lady of The Lake.
Work*
Outside friend to examine.
* Subjects thus indicated to be marked by the parents according to Regulations.
P. Q., aged 12. CLASS III.
List of Subjects taken.
Bible Lessons.
French.
German.
Latin.
English History.
French do.
Roman do.
Geography.
English Grammar.
Writing.
Dictation.
Natural History.
Botany
Physiology.
Arithmetic.
Euclid.
Composition.
All the questions were answered in the subjects that the student had taken; a few of the answers are omitted here for reasons of space. The maps and diagrams are rather well done, but cannot be reproduced. The student's spelling, pointing, etc. have been carefully preserved.
Bible Lessons.
1. 2. (a) "I am Joseph, your brother, whom ye sold into Egypt."
These words were spoken by Joseph when he was revealing himself to his
brethren. His brothers had come down into Egypt a second time to buy
food, and had persuaded their father Jacob to let them take Benjamin
down with them, because Joseph had told them that they must. So Jacob
reluctantly let Benjamin go. And now they had bought their corn, and
actually been asked to dine with Joseph, and were on their homeward
way, when some
officers of Joseph's household come galloping after them, and angrily ask whether the way to return hospitality is to steal Joseph's cup, his favourite silver cup. Then when the cup is found in Benjamin's sack, Judah, who has promised to be surety for him, begs that he may be a slave to Joseph instead of Benjamin, as he promised Jacob his father to bring him back safe. Then they are all taken in to see Joseph, and he cannot stand it any longer, and bursts into tears, and says "I am Joseph; doth my father yet live?" 'And his brethren could not answer him for they were troubled at his presence. And Joseph said unto his brethren "Come near to me, I pray you." And they came near. And he said "I am Joseph your brother whom ye sold into Egypt.'" So then of course they believed him, and everything was made all right.
(c) Jacob lay on his death-bed with his sons around him, listening to his words which seemed to come straight from God. But instead of Reuben, as the first-born getting the best or most wonderful blessing, he seems to have been put below Judah, who is told that he shall be "a fruitful bough," and shall remain "Until Shiloh come." This seems to be a wonderful inspiration in Jacob that someone should come from the descendants of his son Judah who "should save His people from their sins." Of course, now, we see in it a prophecy of the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, though then it was most likely an undefined thought.
II. 1. (b) "There was a man that had two sons; and he went to one, and said "Son, go to work to-day in my vineyard." And he answered and said "I will not"; but afterwards he repented, and went. And the father went to the other son and said "Son, go to work to-day in my vineyard." And he answered and said "I go, sir," but went not at all to the work. Whether of the twain did the will of their father?" They (the priests) say unto him "the first." "From this we see that the parable was aimed at
the chief priests, scribes, and Pharisees, who had been trying to trap him in his talk. The man was God, the two sons, those that did his will, and those that did not, and the vineyard was the world. The scribes and Pharisees were those who made a lot of show, and were very particular about all the little outside observances of religion, but did not really work, like the son in the parable who said "I go, sir" and did not go at all, Thus they were made to condemn themselves by saying that the first did the will of God, and not the second,
2, (a) Pilate had been cross-examining Jesus, and had "found no fault in him." When he asked the people what he should do with him, they cried out, saying "Crucify him, crucify him." But Pilate answered and said "Shall I crucify your King?" But they cried out yet the more, saying "Crucify him, crucify him." Then Pilate took a bason, and washed his hands before the multitude saying "I have nothing to do with this righteous man; see ye to it," And the people cried out, saying "His blood be upon us and upon our children," Then Jesus was led away.
French.
1. Un fusil, une bandouliere, des cartouches, une gibeciere, un
permis de chasse, et une meute de chiens,
2 (recited),
"Savez-vous son nom?"--La nature
Reunit en vain ces cent voix.
L'etoile a l'etoile murmure
"Quel Dieu nous imposa nos lois?"
La vague a la vague demande
"Quel est celui qui nous gourmande?"
La foudre dit a l'aquilon
"Sais-tu comment ton Dieu se nomme?"
Et les astres, la terre, et l'homme
Ne peuvent achever son nom,
Que tes temples, Seigneur, sent etroits pour mon ame!
Tombez, murs impuissants, tombez!
Laissez-moi voir ce ciel que vous me derobez!
Architecte divin, tes domes sont de flammes !
Que tes temples, Seigneur, sont etroits pour mon ame!
Tombez, murs impuissants, tombez!
4. Cette aiguille est tres aigue. Ces animaux soot de trois familles. Ce mouvement est tres facile; un pas avec ce pied, et il faut qu'un bras faire ce tour. Cet homme etait bien fait de sa personne. Ils etaient tres sages; ils mettaient leurs livres dans l'armoire, pas sur la table. Ses filles etaient tres mechantes. Il fit un tel pas, que je pensais qu'il tomberait. Chaque personne fit une gran de reverence, quand Ie roi venait.
German.
1. (Heroengeschichten has not
been taken, so "Kaiser Karl am Luther's
Grab" is recited, from page 24 of A
Book of German Ballads, Cambridge
University Press.)
In Wittenberg, der starken Luther's Feste
Ist Kaiser Karl, der Sieger, eingedrungen;
Wohl ist den Stamm, zu fallen, ihm gelungen
Doch neue W urzeln schlagen rings die Aeste.
In Luther's Feste hausen fremde Geste
Doch Luthers Geist der bleibet unbezwungen
Da, wo des Geistes Schwert er hat geschwungen
Da ruhen billig auch des Leibes Reste.
Am Grabe steht der Kaiser, tier geriihret.
"Auf denn, und rache dich an dem Gebeinen
Den Flammen gib sic preis, wie sich's gebuhret."
So hort man aus der Diener Tross den Einen.
Der Kaiser spricht "Den Krieg hab' ich gefiihret
Mit Lebenden; um Todte lasst uns weinen."
2. Welche dieses Blumen ist den schonsten? Ich war einmal in Berlin und dreimal in Paris.
3. Ich babe sechs gute Bucher. Er ist funfzehnmal gestraft worden. Wir sind siebzehn edtele Knaben. Neun Knaben sind in dieses Spiel. Vier Bucher waren gross-Achtzehn-hundert schlecht Knauen.
Arithmetic.
(Answers difficult to type; scanned image may be included here.)
Composition.
(a) Sir Walter Scott was a well-known writer in the early part of the
19th century. His novels are read by almost everyone; and, though,
perhaps, his poetry is not quite so well-known, still at most places
one finds people who have read or heard of the "Lady of the Lake" or
"Marmion." The first of his novels was "Waverly" (sic), and so they are
often called the "Waverley Novels." The historical tales are very
good, giving the reader a splendid idea of life in the 12th or 13th
centuries; "Ivanhoe," "Betrothed," "The Talisman" and "Kenilworth"
(this latter is about the 16th century, in Queen Elizabeth's reign).
"The Heart of Midlothian" is also very interesting, and "Peveril of
the Peak" tells about the fighting between the Cavaliers and Roundheads
in the time of Charles I., and Oliver Cromwell. The "Lady of the Lake"
is about the longest poem Sir Walter Scott ever wrote; it is very
beautiful, and many pieces in it are most interesting. "Marmion" tell
(sic) of a battle, and how a
Lord Marmion was killed there.
Latin.
1. Alexander once upon a time asked a pirate whom he had taken by what
right he infested the seas? At that,
"The same," said he "by which you do (infest) the world. But because I do it with a small ship, I am called a robber; you, because you do it with a great fleet and army are called a general." Alexander dismissed the man unhurt. Did he do rightly?
Alexander olim comprehensum piratam interrogavit, quo jure maria infestaret? me "Eodem," inquit " quo tu orbem terrarum. Sed quia ego parvo navigio facio, latro vocor; tu, quia magna classe et exercitu, imperator." Alexander inviolatum hominem dimisit. Num juste fecit?
Alexander, noun proper,
masc., sing., nominative case.
Olim, adv. modifies verb
"interrogavit."
Comprehensum, participle used
as adj., modifying "piratam."
Piratam, n. common, masc.,
sing., objective case, governed by
"interrogavit." .
Interrogavit, verb,
transitive, 3rd pers. sing. Past Tense.
Quo, relative pron., ablative
case, antecedent "jure."
Jure, n. common, neuter,
sing., ablative case.
Maria, n. common, neuter
singular, objective case to "infestaret."
Infestaret, intransitive verb,
3rd person singular Present Subjunctive
Tense. .
2. (a) Somnimus totus
noctes. (b) Docebo te musicam.
(c) Romani Numam regem
elexerunt. (d) Galli cis
Rhenum habitaverunt. (e)
Magister videt multos pueros ludere.
(a) illustrates
that the object is in the accusative in Latin.
(b) " " the
double object is in the accusative.
(c) " " the
double object is in the accusative.
(d) illustrates
that all prepositions as "cis" take the acc. case.
(e) " " with a
sentence like "The master sees that many boys play" you
prefix with "Master sees" leave out "that" turn "many boys" into
accusative, and turn "play" into the infinitive.
English History.
1. The Anti-Com-law League was formed early in the reign of Queen
Victoria. Its name shews that its object was to get the Corn Laws
repealed or rather to have the taxes on corn taken off, as they were
causing distress in the country. Eloquent men went about the country,
speaking to the people, and telling them how much better it would he
not to have them, until they were convinced that it was so, and made
rather a fuss over it, so that one Prime Minister, Lord Russell,
resigned, and Lord Melbourne came in, and took off some of the taxes.
People now seem to be thinking that it would be a good thing to put on
some of these corn taxes again, and the country is again rather
agitated about it, and Mr Chamberlain, Mr Balfour, and many other
gentlemen go about making speeches either for, or against it, according
to their different views, just as people did then, when Sir Robert Peel
did take them off.
2. England joined in the Crimean war, because they were afraid that if Russia got hold of Turkey, they might prevent the English going to and from India, and that thus the command we had over India might be loosened and India might once more become an independent country. France entered because Napoleon III. wished to show that he had some power, and was not afraid of war. Sardinia entered in because the King of Sardinia's minister, Count Cavour, wished to shew that Sardinia had some power, and he also thought that by making powerful friends such as England and France, his master, King Victor Emmanuel might one day become king of Italy. Russia wanted to put down Turkey, and Turkey of course went against Russia. It was a very sad war, mostly because of the bad management. The charges of the Light and Heavy Brigades, the battles of Inkerman, Balaclava, and last of all, the long siege of Sebastopol, which might have been prevented, had we charged the day before at the Russians, so as to prevent
them get (sic) hold of, and fortifying the chief tower, all tells (sic) of suffering from the intense cold, and death of the soldiers by scores.
French History.
1. The Prussians advanced into France, meeting with resistance
everywhere, but still they went steadily on; till at last they reached
Paris, which they besieged for a long time, so that the people were
obliged to eats cats, dogs, horses and even rats and mice, so that they
had to give in. Then there was a treaty made, and Prussia made France
give up the two provinces of Alsace and Lorraine, and also made them
pay an immense sum of money, which was only paid off about 10 years
ago. France cannot rest with Alsace and Lorraine in the hands of the
Emperor of Germany, and keeps up large armies in the hopes of winning
them back some day. Germany also keeps up large armies, in readiness
for resistance, and these two countries make Europe like an armed camp.
2. In 1875 people thought that they would like a king again, but after all a new Constitution was made and passed by the Assembly. This government still lasts. There is a Chamber of Deputies, something like our English Parliament. There is also another Chamber called the Senate, like the House of Lords in England. A President is chosen, and after seven years, gives up his post, and someone else is chosen. Ministers carry on the government so as to please the National Assembly. New people must be chosen if they are not liked by the Assembly.
Roman History.
1. The Veintes, one of the Tuscan nations, declared that Romulus
ill-treated the Fidenre, who belonged to them. This was absurd, as the
Veintes had not tried to help the Fidenre when
Romulus took them, and therefore they had
a war, in which Romulus was victorious and on the anniversary for some years after the Romans celebrated their victory by having a herald who called through the town "Sardians to be sold" (the Veientes were called Sardians, because the Tuscans were descended from the Sardians, and several young boys in ropes represent (sic) the Veientes.
2. The Romans imagined that there were not enough women for them all to have a wife, so they attacked the Sabines and carried off several women. These were treated with courtesy and respect, but the Sabine men did not like it, and declared war. But while they were fighting the women ran in between, and beseeching, on one side their fathers, and on the other their husbands, to stop, they did stop, and made up the quarrel.
Geography.
1. The West Indies are a set of islands enclosing the Gulf of Mexico
and the Caribbean Sea. They form two large groups, the Greater Antilles
and the Lesser Antilles. The largest island in the Greater Antilles is
Cuba, which belongs to Spain. It is a lovely place, with palm-trees
cocoa and coffee plantations, and sugar and tobacco are largely
exported. The capital is Havana, where the best cigars in the world are
made; and it also has a good harbour from whence is exported the sugar,
coffee, cocoa and rum made in the island. The island next in size in
our first group is Hayti or St Domingo. Part of this island belongs to
Spain, and the other part once belonged to France, but is now a little
negro kingdom. Its capital is Port au Prince. Jamaica is the next
island; this belongs to Britain, and is the chief place from which we
get our sugar, cocoa and coffee. The capital is Kingston, a nice bright
town, with churches and a Town Hall, and a governor's residence. Porto
Rico is a Spanish island of not very much importance.
Its capital is Don Juan, named after the Spanish sailor who first discovered it. Then comes a little group of islands called the Virgin Islands, of which the most important is Santa Cruz, which belongs to Denmark. They are between the Greater and Lesser Antilles. The largest island in the Lesser Antilles is Guadeloupe, which belongs to France. It is a pleasant island, with a lovely bay on which stands the capital, Grande Terre. Dominica (British), Barbuda, Anguilla, Antigua, and St John's (also British) are some of the most important British islands. The other French islands are Martinique, and Marie Galante. St Vincent, and Barbadoes (capital Bridgetown) are also important British islands. After passing the Lesser Antilles, we come to the beautiful island of Trinidad, with its capital, Port of Spain, on the lovely blue Gulf of Paria, which separates it from Venezuela.
[Map; not included in the book.]
4. Coral reefs are formed by tiny animals called "coral polypes" which, almost as soon as they are born, begin to separate part of their food to build up their houses. They often stick to one another and build in companies. We will imagine 10 of these little animals have started building at the bottom of the sea. Two or three of them may have stuck to each other, and soon a little pillar appears of red, white or (very rarely) black coral. New little polypes are born, and they build on and round their parents' work. So it get (sic) broader and higher, and more and more little ones come to enlarge the work, till one day a point of red or white coral appears above the surface of the sea. More and more of it appears, till there is quite a little island. Then the wind often blows seeds, and the birds bring them, and the sea washes up sand into the nooks and crannies, till palm-trees grow, and other plants, and birds build their nests there, and maybe have tiny birds themselves, and so there is an island fit for man's use, and it all started
from two or three little coral polypes about 1/8 of an inch long.
Volcanos are apparently openings in the earth's crust down to (sic) very centre of the earth, where many people believe that there is a great fire, the remains of the days when the earth was a seething mass of fiery vapour. When eruptions break forth, flames and smoke reaching to an enormous height come out of the crater, and fiery lava runs in streams down the sides of the mountain, burning everything in its course, and stones and ashes are thrown out ever so far. In the sad eruption of Mont Pelee in 1901 ashes fell on steamers more than 100 miles away, and the noise of the eruption was heard for miles, and the city of St Pierre (the capital of Martinique) was entirely buried in ashes and lava; only a few church walls or street corners are remaining now to show that St Pierre was once a flourishing city. This shews that volcanoes are evidently openings through which the inside of the earth seems sometimes to "let off steam."
[Diagrams; not included in book.]
Subject.
English Grammar.
[diagram/table not scanned]
One, numeral adj., modifying "flowers." By, preposition, joining "one" to "one." Close, transitive verb, 3rd pers. plur., Present Tense. Shutting, present participle, governing "petals." Their, pels. poss. pron., 3rd pers. phil. From, preposition, governing "moon." Still, adj., modifying "grasshoppers." So, adv., modifying "soon." Soon, adv. of time, modifying "are still." Noisy, adj., qualifying "crows."
2. Go quickly; he is dying. A dying man lies there. Making a dress is difficult. I am making a box. To tell tales is mean. I was to tell you that. But for him, I should not be here. Had you but a knife, we should be safe. Yes, but he is stupid, so I cannot make him hear.
3. Episode, epi-tome. Hypo-crite, hypo-thesis. Cataract, cat-astrophe, cat-hedral. Di-phong (sic). Syn-tax, syl-lable, sym-pathy.
Natural History.
I. (b) Foraminiferre are in the Rhizopoda, or root-footed family.
They have a little opening in their shells, through which they send out
hairs to catch very tiny water creatures and suck them in. Their shells
are made from something they swallow. They are all sorts of shapes, and
can be seen without a microscope, though their lovely coloured shells
and tiny bodies can be seen better with it. They increase by
self-division, but they generally grow from tiny buds on the bodies of
their mothers.
[Diagrams; not included in book.]
Sponges are cousins to the Foraminiferre, but are slightly higher up in the Rhizopoda family. They are full of tiny holes, with sometimes a bigger opening. These little holes lead into little passages, which are continually leading into one another, and the bigger holes lead into bigger passages. They are made of some sort of fine tissue, which the sponge animal makes out of some part of its food after it has been digested. In these passages tiny, soft slimy creatures live, which are able to throw out hairs from themselves, with which they sweep water in and out of their house. Their children are born from buds, by self-division, and also from eggs. Some sponges increase in all these different ways at once, so that one sponge often becomes the father of several families. Little hard things called Sponge spicules grow round the eggs to protect them. They
are made from the lime the Sponge finds in the water, and often have beautiful shapes.
[Diagrams; not included in book.]
2. It has been found, that though people speak of the "everlasting hills" yet they cannot have been always where they are now. Mountains that are formed of rocks of any kind, either sedimentary, or organic, must have been laid down at the sea-bottom and something must have pushed them up; either earthquakes, or volcanic eruptions. If, for example, several different kinds of Sedimentary Rocks were laid down flat at the sea-bottom (fig.1) till they were
[Diagrams; not included in book.]
hundreds, perhaps thousands of feet thick, and they also happened to lie on some weak part of the earth's crust, where earthquakes sometimes happen, they may be squeezed or pushed up above the surface of the sea, and round them may be deposited more rocks, and they may be pushed up, and so land may be formed, with some parts higher than the rest, and these parts are called mountains.
Botany.
[Diagrams; not included in book.]
2. The raspberry, strawberry and blackberry are all of the Rose family. But there are little differences between them; they are not all alike. The raspberry is like the strawberry in that its seed boxes grow on a mound. But when you look at the ripe fruit, you will see that the seed boxes themselves grow bigger, softer and rounder, and also they shrink away from the white mound, so that a ripe raspberry comes off without a little stalk, etc., hanging on. The Blackberry is just the same as the raspberry, only it is black, and the round juicy seed boxes do not shrink away from the mound quite so much. The construction of the strawberry fruit, however, is slightly different. Here it is the little mound that swells,
and becomes a bright red, and the seed boxes (generally wrongly called "seeds") remain hard and small, looking something like little yellow apple pips.
Euclid (first set).
[mathematical diagrams]
[mathematical diagrams]
How Oral Lessons Are Used
Though the role of the teacher should, in a general way, be like a University tutor who "reads with" his men. Oral lessons, also, are indispensable, whether in introducing a course of reading or in bringing out specific points in readings. Oral lessons also give the teacher opportunities to read passages from other books related to the subject at hand. this is a sure way to increase children's interest in extended knowledge. Some subjects, again,
as Languages, Mathematics, Science, depend very much upon oral teaching and demonstrations. It might be good if the lecture, with its accompanied note-taking and reports, were cut out of the ordinary curriculum, and the oral lesson was made a channel for free intellectual dialogue between teacher and student, and a way to broaden the intellectual horizon of children. I'm including a few sets of notes of criticism lessons which have been given by different student teachers of the House of Education to the children in the Practising/Intern School. These lessons are always expansions or illustrations or summaries of some part of the scholars' current book-work.
Subject: Old Testament History.
Group: History. Class lb. Average age: 8. Time: 20 minutes.
OBJECTS.
1. To interest the children in the story of Jacob's death so that
they won't forget it.
2. To give a new concept of God as drawn from the story of Jacob's
deathbed--the concept of God's abiding presence.
3. To give them an admiration for Joseph as a son who honored his
father
and mother.
LESSON.
Step 1. Recap the last lesson, and follow Jacob's
journey
with his family from Canaan to Egypt, using a map.
Step 2. Show the children that Joseph was the first of Jacob's sons to
visit him when he was ill. Draw their attention to the particular trait
of Joseph's character shown in this story.
Step 3. Describe in a few words the surroundings in which the events of
the story take place.
Step 4. Read carefully to the children suitable parts of Genesis 48,
reminding them to pay special attention to the words of the
Bible, because they express the scene so beautifully.
Step 5. While the children are narrating using the words from the
Bible,
help them by asking questions to bring out the important points of the
story.
Step 6. Help the children to realise how Joseph's love for his father
affected his life, and how they should let their parents feel their
own love.
Step 7. Let the children see that this family realized God's abiding
presence, and show them how any family can realize it in the same way,
if they're open to it.
Subject: New Testament Story--Jesus Stilling the Storm.
Group: History. Class II. Average age of children: 10. Time: 30 minutes.
OBJECTS.
1. To try to give to the children some new spiritual thought and a
practical idea of faith.
2. To bring the story of the Stilling of the Storm vividly before
their minds.
3. To interest them in the geography of the Holy Land.
4. To help them to feel the
wonderful directness, beauty, and simplicity of the Bible language by
using careful, graphic reading: in
short, to make them feel the poetry of the Bible.
APPARATUS REQUIRED
1. Bibles for the children.
2. A map of Palestine.
3. Thomson's Land and Book.
4. Pictures of:--(1) A storm on a lake; (2) Galilean boats; (3) The Sea
of Galilee.
LESSON.
Step 1. Ask the children to find Matt. 8:23 in their Bibles.
Tell the story of the Stilling of the Storm, keeping as closely as
possible to the language of the Bible.
(a) Let the children find the
Sea of Galilee on the map, gathering from
the map some notion of the surrounding country; compare with Lake
Windermere.
Show the course of their journey by referencing verses 5 and 28 in the
same
chapter.
Show pictures of ships used in the East and on the Sea of Galilee.
(b) Describe the storm
graphically, drawing out from the children some
possible reasons for the sudden storms (caused by the ravines, down
which the
winds rush); get from them their idea of a storm at sea or on a lake.
Show a photograph of a storm on Lake Windermere.
(c) Try to make the children
understand the twofold nature of our Lord:
(1) His
Humanity--He was apparently tired.
(2) His
Divinity--His power over Nature
(d) Try to make the children
feel the simplicity of the Bible language
and the forceful way in which it brings pictures before the mind.
There arose a great storm--His disciples came to Him--He arose--there
was a great calm--Refer to Psalm 107:23-30.
(e) "The men marvelled." Try
to show the children that faith is just
another word for understanding, knowing how, the better we know a
person, the more we can trust him. Draw out from the children how faith
is
shown in nearly every verse of this story, but, as far as the disciples
were concerned, it did not go far enough.
Draw out from them that it is not necessary to always be with a person in order to have faith in him. Ask them how people show faith in all the things they do in their daily lives.
Step 2. Read the story from the Bible; read it carefully, so that
the children will appreciate its literary value and see the vivid
pictures that it brings before the mind.
Step 3. Let the children narrate the story, keeping as close as
possible
to the Bible words.
Subject: Reading.
Group: English. Class III. Average age: 13. Time: 25 minutes.
OBJECTS.
1. To try to improve the children's read-aloud skills by dril1ing them
in
clear and pure pronunciation.
2. To show them that by their reading, a series of mental pictures
should be presented to the listener.
LESSON.
Step 1. Breathing exercises. Ask them the reason for doing the
exercises.
Step 2. Give the children practice with consonant and vowel sounds, by
giving
them sentences that have difficulties in pronunciation.
m, en, n. A stricken maiden
musing on a mountain was given from heaven
man in mortal form.
final t. A just knight felt a
weight on his heart, and yet a sweet
quiet rest was present when he went to meet the light.
p, b. A path of prickly
brambles, bordered by pure pale poppies,
breathed peace between the broken beams.
d. Touched by the hand that
appeared from the cloud under which nodded
the dead leaves. (Notice final d
is sometimes pronounced like t.)
Step 3. Read the passage chosen, from Tennyson's 'Sir Galahad,' asking
the girls afterwards to describe the mental pictures they imagined.
"A maiden knight to me is given
Such hope, I know not fear;
I yearn to breathe the airs of heaven
That often meet me here.
I muse on joy that will not cease,
Pure spaces clothed in living beams,
Pure lilies of eternal peace,
Whose odours haunt my dreams;
And, stricken by an angel's hand,
This mortal armour that I wear,
This weight and size, this heart and eyes
Are touched, are turned to finest air.
The clouds are broken in the sky,
And through the mountain walls
A rolling organ-harmony
Swells up, and shakes and falls.
Then move the trees, the copses nod,
Wings flutter, voices hover clear:
'O just and faithful knight of God!
Ride on! the prize is near.'
So pass I hostel, hall and grange;
By bridge and ford, by park and pale,
All-armed I ride, whate'er betide,
Until I find the Holy Grail."
Step 4. Show the girls a reproduction of Watts' conception of Sir Galahad, asking
them in what points the poet's and artist's ideas coincide.
Step 5. Let the children read the passage.
Subject: Narration (Plutarch's life of Alexander--part of the term's work).
Group: Language. Class II. Average age: 10. Time: 20 minutes.
OBJECTS.
1. To improve the children's power of narration by impressing on them Plutarch's style (as translated by North), and making them narrate as much as possible in his words.
2 To inspire admiration in the children of Alexander's love of simplicity, generosity, and kindness to his men.
LESSON.
Step 1. Connect with the last lesson by questioning the children.
Last time they read stories illustrating Alexander's graciousness and
tact.
Step 2. Tell the children briefly the substance of what I am going to
read to them, letting them find any places mentioned on their maps.
Step 3. Read to the children about three pages, dealing with the luxury
of the Macedonians, Alexander's march to Bactria, and the death of
Darius. Read this slowly and distinctly, and into the children as much
as possible.
Step 4. Ask the children in turn to narrate, letting each of them
narrate a part of
what was read.
Subject: From Plutarch's 'Greek Lives.'
ALEXANDER THE GREAT.
(An Introductory Lesson.)
Group: History. Class II. Age: 8 and 9. Time: 30 minutes.
OBJECTS.
1. To establish relations with the past.
2. To introduce the boys to a fresh hero.
3. To stir them to admiration of the wisdom, valour, and self-reliance
of Alexander the Great.
4. To increase the boys' skill at narration.
LESSON.
Step 1. Begin by connecting Alexander the Great with the time of Demosthenes, of whom the boys have been learning recently.
Step 2. Draw from them some account of the times in which
Alcxander
lived and of Philip of Macedon.
Step 3. Arouse the boys' interest in Alexander by the story of the
taming of Bucephalus, which must be read, discussed, and then narrated
by the boys.
Step 4. Ask the boys what they mean by a hero. The old meaning was
demi-god, the Anglo-Saxon meaning, a man. Both really meant a man who
was brave and true in every circumstance.
Ask them, 'What are the qualities which go to make a hero?' Draw from
them how far we can trace these qualities in Alexander. We notice:--
Wisdom.--'What a horse are
they losing for want of skill to manage
him!'
Perseverance.--He kept
repeating the same expression
Self-reliance.--'And I
certainly could.' This was justified by the fact
that he could.
Observation.--He noticed that
the horse was afraid of Its shadow.
Courage.--Seeing his
opportunity, he leaped upon its back.
Prudence.--He went very gently
till he could feel that he had perfect
control of the animal.
These are not all the qualities one looks for in a hero, but as the boys will be learning all about Alexander next term, they will be able to find out for themselves what others he had. They will see, for instance, how he never imagined a defeat but went on, conquering as he went (Hope).
The name of Alexander has never been forgotten, because he was so great a hero. Owing to him, the language and civilisation of Greece were carried over a great part of Asia. Show map illustrating his campaigns. He tried to improve the land wherever he went. Owing to his travels, people began to know more than they had ever known of geography and natural history.
Himself a hero, Alexander reverenced heroes, keeping 'the casket
copy' of The Iliad.
Step 5. Recapitulate Step 4 by means of questions.
Subjed: The Godwins.
Group: History. Class III. Average age: 13. Time: 30 minutes.
OBJECTS.
1. To recapitulate and enlarge on the period of history taken during
the term (A.D. 871-1066).
2. To increase the children's interest in it by giving as much as
possible in detail the history of one of the prominent families of the
period.
3. To exemplify patriotism in the character of the Godwins.
LESSON.
Step 1. Recapitulate what the girls know of the period briefly by
questioning about the Saxon and the Danish kings and leading men,
making a chart on the blackboard.
Step 2. Begin with the reign of Canute. Enlarge upon their present
knowledge as to his character and deeds whilst king of England, and let
a girl read the account of his pilgrimage to Rome (Freeman's Old English
History, p. 242).
Step 3. Give an account of the early history of Earl Godwin--his
apparently humble origin--his love of his country--his character. He
rose by his valour and wisdom--was loved by both Saxons and Danes--was
merciful to his foes. He married Gytha, sister of Earl Ulf--was made
Earl by King Canute--and had Wessex given him as his kingdom. Put on
the blackboard the names of the three divisions of England, with their
earls or rulers.
Step 4. The period between the death of Canute and
Edward the Confessor's coming to the throne. Under Harold and Hartha--Canute Danish rule became distasteful, and the English longed for an English king. Let a girl read the account of Hartha--Canute's treatment of the people of Worcester and the conduct of Godwin and the other earls on that occasion (p. 250).
Step 5. Edward the Confessor. Ask them questions about his early
life and education, and how these affected his character and ideas. Was
he a suitable man for a king? Not powerful enough to rule--Godwin
became his supporter and adviser. Marriage of Godwin's daughter, Edith,
to the king. Godwin's eloquence and influence over the people. (Read
from Knight's History, p. 162.)
Step 6. Godwin's patriotism is put to the test. Speak of his banishment
with his wife and six sons, and its consequences. William of Normandy
invited over to England--great dissatisfaction at misrule in
England--the people resent the Normans being put in office. Let G--
read (p. 262).
Step 7. Godwin's return--he and his family again received into
favour--his death--the crime which had been laid to his charge--Harold
a worthy successor. Show from a map the divisions of England at the
death of the
'Confessor.' Read from Lord Lytton's Harold
(p. 63).
Subjed: History.
Group: History. Class IV. Age: 16. Time: 40 minutes.
THE STATE OF FRANCE IN 1789.
OBJECTS.
1. To establish relations with the past.
2. To show how closely literature and history are linked together and
how the one influences the other.
3. To try to give yet a clearer idea of the social and political state of France before the Revolution than the girls have now, and to draw from them the causes which brought about the Revolution in France and at this time (1789).
LESSON.
Step 1. Begin by noticing the state of France generally. Feudalism was still in existence, without its usefulness and with most of its abuses, and it led to the great division of Classes--the Privileged and the Unprivileged. In both Army and Church it was impossible for the unprivileged to rise by merit; all offices were filled by the privileged classes. These were exempt from many taxes. Draw from G-- and S-- the chief taxes--Taille, levied on property, and the Gabelle, which forced everyone to buy a certain amount of salt from the Government at an enormous rate.
Step 2. Speak of the state of France in the country, showing what was the relation of the peasant to his lord. The land he lived on generally belonged to him; in return for which he had to grind his com at his lord's mill, etc., had to give his work free on certain days in the year, and help to make the roads in his lord's land (corvee). Tell them something of the Game Laws and the 'Intendants.'
Step 3. Notice the state of France in the towns, showing how impossible it was for a poor man to set up in a trade, owing to the guilds and monopolies. The merchants, together with men who held certain offices under Government, formed a separate class, far removed from both the peasants and the nobles.
Step 4. The state of the Church. For the most part the higher ecclesiastics were hated and despised. This was not the case with the 'cures,' for they were of the peasantry, and shared their troubles. But the higher ecclesiastics were generally younger sons of nobles, who drew the salaries of
their offices and lived a gay life at Court. The Church also imposed heavy dues.
Step 5. Show that these evils might have been remedied gradually (as in England) had there been a representative assembly regularly called, or any true justice. But as justice could be bought and sold, the poor man always lost his cause, and the pleadings of the peasants could in no way make themselves heard. They had risen just before this time, but unsuccessfully.
Step 6. Draw from G-- and S-- the reason why the Revolution broke out in France rather than in any other Continental country. Because, though the evils in France were no worse than those borne by the German peasants, the French people had been awakened to the knowledge of their misery and of their right to liberty by many great writers. Such were Voltaire, Rousseau, Diderot, d'Alembert, and Montesquieu. Get from G-- and S-- all I can about these men and their influence on history.
Step 7. Draw from G-- and S-- why the Revolution broke out just in 1789. Rousseau had written his works since about 1730, and Voltaire since 1718.
The French had borne their lot under Louis XIV.'s strong government.
Louis XV. was very different. The evils of a despotic government were
clearly shown by him. He it was who said, 'Apres nous le deluge!' Then
came Louis XVI., conscientious and full of good intentions.
Get from the girls something of Louis' character. But the great
opportunity of the people came in the calling of the States General, in
order to raise money.
Step 8. A short recapitulation of the principal points.
Subject: Literature.
Group: English. Class IV. Age: 16 Time: 45 minutes.
CHARLES LAMB.
OBJECTS.
1. To give some main principles to guide the choice of reading.
2. To give a short sketch of the life of Charles Lamb.
3. To show how the writer's character is reflected in The Essays of
Elia.
4, To emphasise the fact that very thoughtful reading is necessary in
order to get full pleasure and benefit from a book.
LESSON.
Step 1. Decide with the pupils as to some principles which should
guide
us in the choice of books, such as the following:
Never waste time on valueless books.
Have respect for the books themselves.
Try to cultivate taste by noticing the best passages in any book that
is being read.
Time is too short to read much; there is a necessity, therefore, for
judicious selection.
The best literature can only be appreciated by those who have fitted
themselves for it.
It is more important to read well
than to read much.
The gain of reading some of the most beautiful literature while we are
young is that we shall then have beautiful thoughts and images to carry
with us through life.
To get at the full significance of a book it is necessary to dig for it.
Thus The Essays of Elia are not only pleasant reading, but they are the reflection of the writer's character. All
that Lamb was can be gathered from his works, and to rightly understand these one must know something of the grand though obscure life of Charles Lamb.
Step 2. Try to draw from the girls, who are already familiar with
some of the essays, what they tell us of Charles Lamb.
Charles Lamb was born 1775. His father was in the service of Mr Salt,
whose portrait is found in The Old
Bencher of the Inner Temple. 1782,
Charles received a presentation from Mr Salt to Christ's Hospital (see
Essay).
The result of his education is summed up in The Schoolmaster. From
fifteen to twenty he was a clerk in the South Sea House (Essay).
In 1795 he was transferred to the India House. He lived near Holbom
with his parents and his sister Mary. Here took place the calamity
occasioned by Mary's insanity.
Charles' heroic resolution. One learns something of the dream he
renounced in Dream Children.
His work at the India House was
uninteresting, but such as left him leisure for intellectual pursuits.
This distribution of occupation was a means of conserving his mental
balance. His literary work was all done in the evening: 'Candle Light'
in Popular Fallacies.
The girls will then read Talfourd's estimate of Lamb.
Letters to Robert Lloyd show Lamb's persistent cheerfulness. This cheerful tone is also noticeable in many of his essays: Mrs Battle, All Fool's Day, My Relations (portrait of John Lamb), Mackery End (portrait of Mary Lamb) Poor Relations, and Captain Jackson. C. Lamb died 1834.
Step 3. Summarise by questions.
Subjed: English Grammar.
Group: Language. Class II. Average age: 10. Time: 20 minutes.
OBJECTS.
1. To increase the children's power of reasoning and attention.
2. To increase their knowledge of English Grammar.
3. To introduce a new part of speech--preposition.
LESSON.
Step 1. Draw from the children the names of the two kinds of verbs and the difference between them, by putting up sentences on the board. Thus in the sentence 'Father slept,' 'slept,' as they know, is intransitive; therefore he could not 'slept' anything, as 'slept' cannot have an object.
Step 2. Put on the board the sentence 'Mary went,' and ask the children to try and make it more complete by adding an object. 'Mary went school' would not be sense, but' Mary went to school' would. Ask for other phrases saying where Mary went, as, for a walk, into the town, with mother, on her bicycle, by train, etc.
Step 3. Tell the children that these little words, on, in, by, for, with, etc., belong to a class of words which are very much used with intransitive verbs; they have not much meaning when used alone, yet in a sentence they cannot stand without an object. You cannot say 'Mary went in,' without saying what she went in.
Step 4. Introduce the word 'preposition,' giving its derivation. Because these little words always take objects after them, and because their place is before the object, they are called prepositions, 'pre' being the Latin word for 'before,' and 'position' another word for 'place.'
Step 5. Write on the board the definition:--'A pre-position always has an object after it.'
Step 6. Let the children work through the following exercises:
(1) Put three objects after each of the following prepositions:--in,
on, over, by, with, and from.
(2) Put three prepositions and their objects after the following:--Mary
plays, Mother sits, John runs.
(3) Supply three prepositions in each of the following sentences:-- The
book is __ the table. The chair is the door. I stood __ the window.
(4) Supply three subjects and verbs to each of the following
prepositions and objects: __ in the garden, __ on the floor, __ by the
fire.
(5) Make three sentences about each of the following, each sentence to
contain an intransitive verb, a preposition and its object:--The white
pony, My little brother, That pretty flower.
Subject: German Grammar.
Group: Languages. Class III. Average age: 13. Time: 30 minutes.
OBJECTS.
1. To show the pupil that although the German construction of
sentences may seem very much complicated, yet with the help of a few
simple rules it can be made much clearer.
2. To draw these rules from the pupil by means of examples.
3. To teach two or three of these elementary rules.
4. To strengthen the relationship with the foreign language.
LESSON.
Step 1. Begin by finding out what the pupils know of compound sentences in English, i.e. that they consist of
two or more clauses depending on each other, etc., and let them give one or two examples. Connect this lesson with a former one on the arrangement of words in German sentences by letting the pupils put one or two compound clauses on the board in German, and then giving the rule they illustrate.
Rule. Dependent clauses take the verb at the end of the clause.
These sentences the pupils can probably give themselves.
Step 2. Get the old rule that the past participle comes at the end of the sentence, with a few examples, one or two of which the pupils may write upon the board to compare with those illustrating the new rule.
Let the pupils put several sentences on the board illustrating the new rule.
Rule. In dependent clauses the auxiliary follows the past participle.
Sentences.--'Ich kehre zuruck, wenn sie angekommen ist.'
'Das Kind, welches verloren war, ist gefunden.'
Let the pupils translate these literally into English, and with the
simple German clauses already on the board and the translation let them
find the rule. Let them translate a few sentences into German to show
that they thoroughly understand the rule.
Step 3. Treat the next rule almost in the same way, but have each sentence put on the board twice in different order, and find the rule by comparing these.
Rule. If the subordinate clause comes first the principal clause
takes its verb at the beginning.
Sentences:--
(1) 'Sie gab den Armen viel, weil sie gut war!
(2) 'Wiel sie gut war, gab sie den Armen viel.'
(1) 'Er ging immer fort, obwohl er mude war.'
(2) 'Obwohl er mude war, ging er immer fort.'
Step 5. Recapitulate.
Subject French Narration.
Group: Languages. Class III. Average age: 13. Time: 30 minutes.
OBJECTS.
1. To give the children more facility in understanding French when
they hear it spoken, and also in expressing themselves in it.
2. To teach them some new words and expressions.
3. To improve their pronunciation.
4. To strengthen the habit of attention.
5. To introduce a new branch of the study of French and thus increase
their interest in it.
6. To have the following passage narrated by the children.
LESSON.
Passage chosen: Le Corbeau.
"Auguste etant de retour a Rome, apres la bataille d'Actium, un
artisan lui presenta un corbeau auquel il avait appris a. dire ces
mots: Je te salue, Cesar vainquer!
Auguste charme, acheta cet oiseau pour six mille ecus. Un perroquet tit
a. Auguste Ie meme compliment et fut achete fort chef. Une pie vint
ensuite; Auguste l'acheta encore.
Entin un pauvre cordonnier voulut aussi apprendre a un cor beau cette
salutation; il eut bien de la peine a. y parvenir, it se desesperait
souvent et disait en enrageant:
Je perds mon temps et ma peine. Enfin il y reussit. Il alIa aussitot
attendre Auguste sur son passage, et lui presenta Ie corbeau, qui
repeta fort bien sa lec;on: mais Auguste se contenta de dire: J'ai
assez de ces complimenteurs la dans moo palais. Alors Ie corbeau, se
ressouvenant de ce qu'il avait souvent entendu dire a son maitre,
repeta: J'ai perdu mon temps et ma peine. Auguste se mit a. rire et
acheta cet oiseau plus cher que tous les autres,"
Step 1. Read the passage slowly and distinctly, stopping
frequently to make sure that the children understand. Write the new words and expressions on the board and give their meanings.
Step 2. Let the children repeat the story in English.
Step 3. Read the passage straight through.
Step 4. Let the children read the passage, paying special attention to the pronunciation.
Step 5. Have the passage narrated in French, helping the children when necessary with questions.
Speak as much French as possible throughout, but always make sure that the pupils understand.
Subject: Italian Gouin.
Group: Language. Class IV. Average age: 16. Time: 30 minutes.
OBJECTS.
1. To increase the girls' interest in foreign languages.
2. To enlarge their Italian vocabulary.
3. To give the girls more facility in understanding Italian when they
hear it spoken, and also power to express themselves in it.
LESSON.
Step 1. Tell the children in a few words what the series is about.
Step 2. Explain the verbs in the infinitive, by doing the actions when
possible.
Step 3. Let the children say the verbs in the infinitive.
Step 4. Let them write the verbs on the board.
Step 5. Explain, by actions, when possible, the rest of the series.
Step 6. Repeat each sentence several times slowly and carefully.
Step 7. Let the children repeat the sentences.
Step 8. Let them write the series on the board.
Verbs. Italian.
Volere esercitarse Luigia vuol esercitarsi sul
piano.
Aprire
Apre il piano.
Suonare
Suona una scala e degli
arpeggio
Studiare
Poi studia una Sonata di
Beethoven.
Volere imparare Che vuol imparare a mente.
English.
Louise wishes to practise.
She opens the piano.
She plays a scale and some
arpeggio
Then she studies a Sonata by
Beethoven,
Which she wants to learn by
heart.
Subject: Geography.
Group: Science. Class III. Average Age: 13. Time: 30 minutes.
SCANDINAVIA--NORWAY IN PARTICULAR.
OBJECTS.
1. To introduce the children to Scandinavia.
2. To foster interest in foreign countries.
3. To teach the children how to learn the map of a country by means of
map questions.
4. To implant mental pictures of the characteristic scenery of Norway
in the children's minds.
5. To show, by means of comparison, the great difference in the
physical features of the two countries which are included in
Scandinavia, although they form only one peninsula.
LESSON.
Step 1. Let the children learn the map of Scandinavia, Norway in particular, by means of the map questions
previously written on the blackboard, writing down their answers.
Step 2. Ask for a general description of Scandinavia.
Step 3. Let the children fill in the blank map on the blackboard.
Step 4. Require the children to give the answers to the questions, and, as they answer, give information, in order that they may become acquainted with each place as it is mentioned, and be able to picture it in their minds.
MAP QUESTIONS.
From the Geographical Readers, Book IV.
1. What waters bound the Scandinavian peninsula? To what land is it attached? What countries does it include?
NOTE. Describe the government of Scandinavia briefly, showing that, although Sweden and Norway have a common sovereign, each country has an independent parliament, elected in very much the same way, as our English Parliament.
2. Through how many degrees of latitude does this peninsula stretch? What other countries of the world lie partly in the same latitude?
3. Describe the coast of Norway. Compare it with that of Sweden. Name the four largest fiords or openings, beginning at the extreme north.
NOTE. Give the idea of the extraordinary way in which the coast is cut up, and the immense number of islands which fringe it. Girls to notice how these islands form an effective breakwater to the force of the Atlantic breakers, so that within their boundary the water is as calm and still as a lake.
Describe the rocky, almost perpendicular sides of the fiords, over which the rivers fall in roaring torrents. Mention the fact that many ships of the Spanish Armada were driven as far north as Stadtland, and wrecked around this dangerous headland.
The Sogne is the largest and most important fiord. It is like a long sea channel running into the country for a distance of 100 miles, with branches right and left, over which wonderful torrents fall. The sides are very steep, and the water is very deep at the entrance. At the Sulen Islands, at the mouth of the fiord, Harold Hardrada collected his force for his expedition against England.
4. Name a group of islands north of the Arctic Circle. The most northerly island. The cape on this island. The most northerly cape on the mainland. The most southerly cape.
NOTE. The Lofoden Islands are granite rocks, rising from the
water in
hundreds of peaks, with jagged and fantastic outlines. The cod
fisheries of these islands are very important, and employ a great
number of people.
Nordkin, which means 'north chin,' is the most northerly point on
the mainland of Europe. Incessant storms rage round the island of
Mageroe, so that it is extremely difficult for anyone to land there.
Lindesnaes means 'Lime nose.'
5. Name five towns on the west, and three on the southeast coast of Norway.
NOTE. Stavanger is the fourth largest city in Norway. Its chief
trade is
in
herrings. It has a very ancient Cathedral.
At Bergen the houses are built on the slopes of the hiIls which run out
into the deep sea. It was formerly the capital, and is now a great fish
port.
Trondhjem is the oldest capital. The name means 'home of the
throne,' and in the Cathedral the kings of Norway are crowned.
Hammerfest is the most northerly town in Europe.
Tourists go there to see the midnight sun. Read Charles H. Wood's
description of the midnight sun, from the Geographical Reader.
Christiania, the capital of Norway, is not a big town, but has a most
beautiful situation. It is at the head of the Christiania Fiord, which
is studded with countless grassy and wooded islands. Most of the houses
are of wood, painted white, with green blinds. The fiord, which used to
be very much frequented by the old Vikings, is blocked by ice for four
months of the year.
6. The Scandinavian mountains nearly fill Norway--by what name is the range known in the north, south, and centre? Name three or four of the highest peaks.
NOTE. There is no continuous range in the Scandinavian
mountains; the
whole
is a high table-land, which increases in height as we go south, with
here and there groups of peaks which appear like huge rocks dotted over
the surface.
These plateaux are topped with moors or snowfields from which glaciers
descend right down into the sea.
7. How does the position of the mountains affect the rivers? Compare the rivers of Norway with those of Sweden.
NOTE. Describe how, in Norway, the rivers rush in torrents over their rocky beds, while those in Sweden flow more gently down the gradual slope of the land. Give the threefold reason--great rainfall, small evaporation owing to the coldness of the climate, and small waste owing to the hardness
of the rocks--for the great volume of water in the short, quick, Norwegian rivers.
8. Recapitulate with blank map, the girls adding descriptive notes as they answer the map questions.
Subject: Astronomy.
Group: Science. Class IV. Age: 16 Time: 30 minutes.
OBJECTS.
1. To interest the pupils in studying the heavens for themselves.
2. To show where the planets may be looked for and how they may be
recognised.
3. To help the pupils to apply their theoretical knowledge of the
planets to explain the movements they can observe with the naked eye.
4. To exercise the reasoning powers.
LESSON.
Step 1. Get the pupils to describe the changes to be seen in the sky at night, and, excluding the apparent motion caused by the earth's rotation, find out whether they have noticed and contrasted the constellations of fixed stars and the planets (wanderers).
Let the pupils tell which of the planets are visible to the naked eye, and ask whether they have noticed when and where are to be seen, at the present date, Jupiter, Saturn, and Mars, which are in Capricornus, Sagittarius, and Leo, respectively.
Step 2. Draw from the pupils, if possible, the marks by which
planets can be distinguished from stars .
(a)
Their steady light.
(b)
Size (in the case of Venus and Jupiter).
(c)
Colour (in the case of Mars).
(d)
Position (relatively to known constellations).
(e)
Motion (noticeable after successive observations).
Step 3. To enlarge on Point (d), let the pupils name the planets whose orbits are within that of the earth and those whose orbits are outside ours. By the help of a diagram (blackboard) of the solar system, get them to infer, from the nearness to the sun of Venus and Mercury, that these planets are never visible at midnight, but only just before sunrise and after sunset.
Step 4. To appreciate Points (d) and (e), get the pupils to recognise the advantage of knowing the constellations by sight. Show Philip's Planisphere, and refer to the Zodiac, showing that, besides being the sun's apparent path, this is the region in which to seek the planets.
Let the pupils find the portion of the heavens visible at 6 p.m. to-day, and indicate, both in the heavens and with respect to our landscape, the positions of Jupiter and Saturn. Also show how Mars may be looked for in the south, too, about 6 o'clock in the morning.
Step 5. To enlarge on Point (e), show a diagram of the path of Venus among the constellations in 1868 (Lockyer's Elementary Lessons in Astronomy, p. 183), and get the pupils to notice how large a distance she travelled in one month, in order to induce them to make personal observations. Prepare them to see the planets sometimes move backwards and sometimes remain stationary. Explain this by letting one of the girls move round the table, while the other watches how, with respect to her background, she appears to move first from left to right, then to remain stationary, then to move from right to left, and again to remain stationary. The moving girl, observing the other with respect to her background, notices the same phenomena.
Then show the diagram in Lockyer, which illustrates these facts, p. 178, and also another in Reid's Elements of Astronomy, p. 137, which shows the apparent motion of one planet viewed from another in motion.
A PICTURE TALK.
Group: Art. Class III. Age: 13. Time: 25 minutes.
OBJECTS.
1. To give the girls some idea of composition, based on the work of
the artist Jean Francois Millet.
2. To inspire them with a desire to study the works of other artists,
with a similar object in view.
3. To help them with their original illustrations, by giving them
ideas, carried out in Millet's work, as to simplicity of treatment,
breadth of tone, and use of lines.
MATERIALS NEEDED.
See that the girls are provided with paint-boxes, brushes, water,
pencils, rulers, india-rubber, and paper.
Photographs of some of Millet's pictures.
A picture-book by R. Caldecott.
LESSON.
Step 1. Introduce the subject by talking with the children about their original illustrations. Tell them how our great artists have drawn ideas and inspiration from the work of other artists; have studied their pictures, copied them, and tried to get at the spirit of them.
Tell them that to-day we are going to study some of the pictures of the great French artist, Millet, some of whose works Mr Yates has drawn for us on the walls of our Millet Room, considering them to be models of true art.
Step 2. Tell the children a little about the life of Millet (giving them one or two pictures to look at meanwhile); give only a brief sketch, so that they will feel that he is not a stranger to them. Just talk to them a little about his early childhood, how
he worked in the fields; how he had two great books--the Book of Nature and the Bible, from which he drew much inspiration; how later on he went to Paris and studied the pictures of great artists, Michael Angelo among them.
Step 3. Show the pictures to the girls, let them look well at them, and then draw from them their ideas as to the beauty and simplicity of the composition; call attention to the breadth of tone, and the dignity of the lines. Help them, sketching when necessary. to reduce a picture to its most simple form; half-closing their eyes to shut out detail, help them to get an idea of the masses of tone, etc.
Step 4. Let the children reproduce a detail of one of the pictures, working in water-colour with monochrome and making their washes simple and flat, reducing the tones to two or three.
Slep 5. Suggest to them to study the works of other artists in a similar way, and show them how the books of R. Caldecott will help them in making their figures look as if they were moving.
Subject: Fra Angelico.
Group: Art. Class IV. Average age: 16 1/2. Time: 30 minutes.
OBJECTS.
1. To show reproductions of some of Fra Angelico's pictures.
2. By means of them, to point out such distinguishing features as will
enable my pupils to recognise Fra Angelico's work wherever they may see
it.
3. To show in what degree his work holds a place in high art.
LESSON.
Step 1. Give a short sketch of the life of Fra Angelico.
Step 2. Allow time for my pupils to look at the pictures
provided, namely, various reproductions of 'Christ in Glory,' 'Saints in Paradise,' 'Angels,' 'Christ as Pilgrim,' 'Annunciation,' 'Crucifixion,' 'Noli me tangere,' 'Descent from the Cross,' 'Transfiguration.'
Step 3. To notice what strikes us most in Fra Angelico's work--the exquisite jewel-like finish; the pure open skies and unpretending clouds; the winding and abundant landscapes; the angels; the touches of white light; the delicacy and grace of form; the colouring; the peace.
Step 4. If high art is to be seen 'in the selection of a subject and
its treatment, and the expression of the thoughts of the persons
represented,' how far does Fra Angelico come up to this standard?
He unites perfect unison of expression with full exertion of pictorial
power. This will be illustrated by further reference to the pictures,
and by reading some passages from Modern
Painters.
Step 5. Allow my pupils time to look again at the pictures, summarising meanwhile by a few questions.
Subject: Design.
Division: Art. Class IV. Average age: 16 1/2. Time: 40 minutes.
OBJECTS.
1. To give the girls an idea of how to fill a space decoratively,
basing the design on a given plant.
2. To show them that good ornament is taken from nature, but a mere
copy of nature to decorate an object is not necessarily ornamental.
3. To give them an appreciation of good ornament and help them to see
what is bad.
4. To draw out their originality by letting them make designs for
themselves.
5. If possible, to give them a taste for designing by giving them some
ideas as to its use.
LESSON.
Step 1. Ask the girls what is meant by a design.
Step 2. After getting from them as much as possible, explain to them that a design is not a mere copy from nature, although it should be true to nature; make them see this by simply copying a plant in a required space to be designed (let this space be for a book cover). It will look meaningless and uninteresting, and does not fill the space, therefore it will not be ornamental. Then show the girls that a design requires thought and invention in arranging it to ornament the object. In the case of the book cover the flower must be designed to fill the space in some orderly pattern, and should be massed in good proportion. Give a few examples of this by illustrations on the board, and show them a book with a design upon it.
Step 3. Point out to them that the most beautiful designs and those that have had the most thought spent upon them are the most simple. Show examples of this in Greek Ornament--Greek Honeysuckle, Egg and Dart Moulding.
Step 4. Tell the pupils that you wish them to make a design for a linen book cover, 7 in. by 5 in., and if they have not time to finish to go on with it at home; if they like to carry the design out practically, to transfer it to linen and work it.
Step 5. Show the girls the flower from which they are to take their design, and point out its characteristics--the general growth of the plant, the curves which it makes, the form of the flower and leaves, and the way the leaves are joined to the central stem; these characteristics should not be lost sight of, but be made use of in giving character to the design, and treated as simply as possible.
Step 6. Let them begin their designs first of all by construction lines, and then clothe them with flowers and leaves, seeing that the masses are in good proportion. If time permits the design could be tinted in two colours, one
for the background representing the linen, and the other for the pattern upon it.
Step 7. Suggest to them different ways in which they can make use of design in making simple patterns for their handicrafts, such as leather-work, wood-carving, and brass-work.
Subject: Leather-work (Embossed).
Group: Handicrafts. Class IV. Age: 16 1/2. Time: 40 minutes.
OBJECTS.
1. To cultivate the artistic feeling in the pupils.
2. To train them in neatness and in manual dexterity.
3. To give training to the eye.
4. To introduce them to a new handicraft.
5. To work, as far as possible in the time, the top of a penwiper.
LESSON.
Step 1. Show the pupils a shaded drawing of the design, also a partly finished penwiper top, with the same design on it. When they have compared the two, they will see that the effect of light and shade is obtained in the leather by raising the light parts and pressing back the dark ones.
Step 2. Let the pupils trace the design on the leather with a pointer. Remove the tracing-paper and accentuate the lines with a pointer. (This is best done with a wheel in a large design.)
Step 3. Damp the leather and with a moulder press the background away from the outline of the design, also the dark parts under the folds at the top of the petals and round the centre. From behind, raise up the light parts with a moulder, and fill the holes thus made with a mixture of sawdust and meal, wet enough to make a kind of rough thick paste. Press away the dark parts again, and make any ornamental lines, etc., while the stuffing is wet, as it
soon dries very hard. For this reason a very little must be stuffed at once; in this design, about one petal at a time.
Step 4. Let the pupils punch their background or not as they prefer.
Work on my own half-finished piece of leather to avoid touching the
pupils' work.
Subject. Cooking.
Division: Handicrafts. Class IV. Age: 16 1/2. Time. 45 minutes.
OBJECTS.
1. To teach the children to make little cakes.
2. To show them that cooking must have method in it.
3. To give them opportunity of thinking for themselves why certain
things should be done.
4. To show them how they can alter a recipe to make it richer or
plainer.
5. To interest them in cooking.
LESSON
Step 1. Show the girls how to manage the stove for cooking.
Step 2. Show them all the utensils to be used, and let them arrange them on the table.
Step 3. Let them write out the recipe from dictation.
Step 4. Let them grease the tins first of all with melted butter. Then let them each weigh out the ingredients on pieces of kitchen paper, and let them work independently of each other, the teacher also doing the same thing, so that the pupils may be able to see how to set to work without having their own work interfered with. During the process ask them why certain things should be done--for instance, why baking powder should be used, why the patty-pans should be greased. Tell them that if they wished to make the cakes plainer they could use milk
instead of eggs, or if richer, they could add raisins and currants and spice. When the mixture is sufficiently beaten and put into the patty-pans, let the girls put them into the oven.
Step 5. While the buns are cooking (they take about ten minutes), let the children and teacher wash up the things they have been using and put them away.
Step 6. Let the children see for themselves if the cakes are done; they should be a light brown. Then let them place them on a sieve to cool, and then arrange them on plates for the table.
